#hes been here 2-3 weeks and ate all of them WITHOUT ASKING OR TELLING ME

[brittbax]

😤

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 12

Hey all, this story will wrap up today, so next week it will go back to just one chapter a day on Tuesdays and Thursdays and when Glitters wraps up, Sundays will go back to one a day as well.

A short chapter for the first of two, because this chapter got too long and needed to be cut down a tad and the next part fits better as a whole.

Eddie and Steve finally kiss and just giving Steve the loving crafting circle he needs.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

****

Steve got to see where the cast ate their meals, where some of the cast stayed in large tents (for those that had traveled from out of state but couldn’t afford a hotel), he got to meet the people who sold the food to the tourists, and the people who cleaned up every night.

It was marvelous.

“So was the two events they were trying to schedule at the same time, the joust and your trick riding?” Steve asked after they left the cleaners.

Eddie grinned. “Close, the sword fighting and my trick riding. I told them that I would happily run over those bastards, but I didn’t think the horses would appreciate it.”

“I bet that got them to change their tune,” Steve said with a laugh.

“It sure did, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured.

Suddenly they found themselves utterly alone.

“Steve–” Eddie began, but Steve placed his fingers on his lips.

“Just wait,” he said softly. “There’s something I want to give you first.”

Eddie blinked at him. “You bought me a present?” he asked. Well technically he said, “Ym brut me apresemnt?” since Steve still had his fingers over his mouth.

Steve laughed and dug it out of his pocket. “It’s been on a little journey, one that nearly gave me a heart attack,” he murmured, “but Jeff was able to get it back to me in time.”

He handed the small pouch over to Eddie.

Eddie took it gingerly and rubbed it between his fingers as he looked at the small thing that Steve had made for him. But as small as the item itself was the giving of it, was massive.

“I remembered you telling me that your dice bag broke,” Steve mumbled, “and I really wanted to thank you for all your help this weekend. I don’t think I could of done it without you.”

Eddie looked up at Steve with glossy eyes. “It’s perfect, Stevie.”

“I plan on giving a bunch to Katie for her to sell while I make the bigger pieces,” Steve continued, “and Robin said that I should give the first one to you, because it’s special. And you deserve something really special, Eds. Because you’re special to me and I–”

Whatever else Steve was going to say got swallowed up by Eddie kissing him firmly on the lips.

He had just grabbed Steve by the face and locked their lips together.

Steve was stocked into stillness, but that didn’t last long as he pulled Eddie close to him and deepened the kiss.

Eddie let out a happy sigh as they parted for breath. “Wow, baby. You kiss like it might be your last.”

“Eh...” Steve said with a half shrug and a lopsided smile, “when you’ve faced more then one ends of the world, it very well could be.”

Eddie chuckled, pressing their heads together. “You’ve got me there, big boy.”

“Mhmm,” Steve said softly. “And I’ve got you here, too.” His arms tightened around Eddie’s waist, drawing them flush against each other.

Eddie swatted at him. “Sap.”

Steve kissed him again. “If I’m a sap, then you’re my tree.”

“That was corny even for you, honey,” he murmured, swatting at him at playfully.

Steve just laughed.

****

The end of the Renaissance Fair had come at last. There had been more then a few bumpy moments, but looking out at all the happy faces being lit up by fireworks, Steve was pleased with the results.

And next year was going to be even better, he had plans for helping the kids have quality costumes like Corroded Coffin boys had.

He might still have to do some altering instead of full on sewing all of the costumes, but he was really looking forward to it.

Katie had told him that he had several people offer her crazy money for the pouch he had accidentally dropped, so he promised her a dozen by the end of next week for her next Fair. In different sizes too.

Eddie had been the one to suggest that. Little coin purses, dice bags, and even handbag sized ones. Eddie was even going to help him find the right materials for it, ones that weren’t as expensive as the little dice bag Steve gave him.

Steve was really looking forward to it.

They hadn’t told the kids yet about their change in relationship. Not yet. They wanted to hold onto it for themselves a little longer.

Though, judging from the look that Will and Mike had sent him, Steve was pretty sure most of them had figured it out anyway.

So what started out with longing gazing into each others’ eyes, ended with holding hands under the cover of darkness as fireworks exploded overhead.

Steve had never been happier and he just knew more happiness was coming his way.

****

Steve was proven right when Claudia called him up the next morning.

“Good morning, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve murmured sleepily.

“I’m sorry, dear,” she said, “did I wake you?”

Steve looked blearily at the clock on the microwave. It was after ten in the morning.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, “I don’t usually sleep this late.”

“While that is certainly true,” Claudia agreed, “you also don’t normally spend three full days at a fair. Too much sun, too much fun, and too little sleep makes for a tired Steve. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, Mrs. Henderson. Was there something you needed?”

“Oh, yes!” she said brightly. “Are you free this afternoon, from around two to four?”

Steve looked over at his calendar and squinted. “Looks like it, unless the nuggets call for rides to wherever.”

Claudia chuckled. “I think they’re going to be just as tired as you and not want to go anywhere today.”

He laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

“So, me and couple of the other moms have a sewing circle every Sunday,” she explained. “And we were all wondering if you wanted to come and join us. We have punch and little treats and spend two hours working on whatever project we have going on while we fill each other in on what’s happening in our lives.”

“You gossip,” Steve accused, teasingly.

She giggled. “Gossip is such tawdry word.”

“Like your every day language wouldn’t make a sailor blush,” Steve said dryly.

“And how would you know that?” she asked, curiosity coloring her tone.

“Ma’am, your son has the worst language I’ve ever seen on a teenager,” Steve said, “and I’m damn sure he didn’t get it from his dad. Even when he was alive.”

Claudia’s giggle turned into a full on laugh. “All right, you’ve got me there, Steve. So you’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Fantastic!” she cried. “We meet at Joyce’s this week.”

“This week?” Steve asked, already plotting what to bring as a treat and which project he wanted to start.

“Yes,” Claudia explained. “We rotate every week so that one person isn’t stuck hosting every time. And if you come often enough, we’ll have it your place once in a while, as well.”

Steve frowned appreciatively. “Sounds good. I’ll see you later then.”

Claudia squealed in excitement. “I can’t wait. We’re going to teach you how to use a sewing machine!”

That really piqued Steve’s interest. “Oh yeah?”

“It was Karen Wheeler’s idea,” she explained. “Karen doesn’t sew like the rest of us, but she does cross-stitch while we all chat. Apparently Mike was telling her about all the sewing you did for him and his friends and that it was all by hand.”

Steve nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, my parents thought sewing was for girls, so I learned by hand.”

“Make sure to bring some examples of your work,” she said. “I want to blow Olive Peterson’s mind. She’s of the same mind as your parents, even though what she does, the knitting, was originally only for men.”

“I have these pouches I’ve decided to make and sell,” Steve said with a grin, “so I can bring those to work on and bring some of the work I did for the kids to show off.”

“That’s brilliant!” Claudia said. “I see you later!”

Steve said goodbye and hung up.

This just might be the thing he needed.

****

Part 13

Don't quote me on the knitting originally being for men thing, it was something I learned when I read a 12 Dancing Princesses retelling years and years ago. The soldier in the story knitted to keep awake at night.

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss

@croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv

@dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter @cryptid-system CLOSED

[cyber-night]

Fyodor needs help sometimes even if he doesn't want it

Content Warnings: Self-neglect, degradation, humiliation, (Neither of which are particularly "sexy" it's more just Fyodor being put in his place through his own stupidity), this... isn't healthy for Anyone...

no smut today, sorry :( there Is a part 2 to this with smut. So if you want to see the pathetic, problematic, and malnourished, twink getting railed come back in a bit :3

You sigh as you look at Fyodors pill bottle. You'd recently put a cap on it that had a timer telling when it had last been opened. You suspected that he hadn't been taking his meds. The timer showed that it had been over two days since Fyodor had taken his medication, and even then, he only took it because you brought it to him.

You head up to his computer room where you find him hunched over his keyboard, typing away at lines of code. "Hey Fedya?" He hums as if he hears you but isn't listening. You continue anyway. "You haven't taken your meds in a few days... how are you feeling?"

"Fine," He says without looking up from typing. "When's the last time you got up to eat or use the bathroom?" You ask worriedly. Fyodor sighs. "I do not need you babying me. I can care for myself, you know." He says flatly. "You haven't taken your meds in two days... I worry about you. When's is the last time you slept in a bed and not at your desk?" He stops typing and pinches the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Not all of us get to sit around and do nothing you know some of us have actual work to do." This makes you pause irritation boiling under your skin. "Excuse me? I do plenty thank you very much. I'm the only one who does anything around here." You snap he has never been this expressly disrespectful to you. "You do nothing but annoy me and take me away from my work! I don't need your help! I realize you are too dumb to understand how important what I'm doing is, but you can at least have the decency to let me do it. As for what you do around here, you do nothing but take up space and money!" He snaps angrily you pause your eyes wide, all the times you've made sure he had water and tea as he worked, made sure he was eating, brought him food if he hadn't eaten yet, brought him his meds, all of that to him was simply an interruption? An irritation? Not to mention you took care of most of the chores, though he helped with a few such as the trash ...Fine then if that's how he saw it. "Very well, then I'll stop." You sat icily your eyes narrowed. "Since you will be fine without me helping, I'll leave you be." He seems pleased at that. "Good." Is all he says before he turns back to his monitors. You don't hesitate to turn and leave.

True to your words the next four? Maybe five days? You don't do anything for him. You knew when you two started dating, he needed something akin to a caretaker as he was oblivious to his own health, unable to feel hunger, thirst, or even exhaustion the way most do. It stemmed from his autism and you were willing to help him out of love for him. You never thought you'd have that affection thrown back at you in such a volatile way. You haven't seen him for a few days making no effort to seek him out.

You are sitting in the living room reading a book quietly when he stumbles in. He looks terrible. He hasn't showered in about two weeks at this point, hasn't had his meds in a week, and God knows when the last time he ate was. You only barely glance at him before returning to your book. You watch him lean against the counter as he makes his way to where his meds are stored. Once he get his hands on them, he looks at the caps timer, showing him its been almost a week since he's taken them. His hands shake as he struggles to open the pill bottle, the childproof cap, making it impossible for him when he's this weak. You watch him from over the edge of your book. He is genuinely struggling, but you can also tell he's putting on a bit of a show to garter pity from you to make you feel bad for leaving him to fend for himself. You don't give him any instead of going back to actually reading flipping the page. After quite a bit of time, he finally stumbles over to you and holds the bottle out to you. "Open this." He says gruffly. "You don't need my help. You should be fine." You say not looking up at him though you can see his hand trembling in your peripheral. Your words make him pause.

He tries to open the bottle again with no luck he stands there swaying slightly, his pride not letting him admit he was wrong or that he needs help. He tries to pull your book down, but he is too weak to succeed. You watch him sway again before he crumples at your feet, the pills bottle rolling away from him. You still don't look up from your book as you flip the page. If he wants anything from you, he needs to put his pride aside. He sits there, trembling at your feet for a few minutes before weakly whispering, "I'm sorry..." It's makes you laugh a little inside. "Pardon? I didn't hear what you said. Would you like to repeat that?" You ask without looking up from your book. "I'm sorry..." You nod. "Hmm, that's a start. What are you sorry for?" His eyes are unfocoused, and he's barely keeping himself upright. "I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"And?"

"...And I was wrong."

"About?"

"I was wrong, I do need you..." You nod again as you flip the page. "Yes, you do, don't you." He waits for a moment before he continues "...Are you going to help me now?" You laugh finally closing your book. "And why would I do that? You've done the bare minimum." Fyodors eyes widen, "please..." He whispers weakly. "Please, what?" You ask with a smirk as you watch him sway on his knees. "Convince me." He takes a shakey breath. I'm looking like he might cry. "Please help me... I feel like I'm going to pass out, and I can't... I can't take care of myself right now." You tilt his head back so you can observe him better. "It's almost a pity I have to put you back together... I kind of like you like this. Weak and pathetic, not that you aren't weak and pathetic normally, but... it's just you look pretty when your half way from deaths doorstep." He whines a hint of fear in his eyes. Sure, he could kill you with a touch, but the idea that he is weak and pathetic normally makes him uncomfortable. "I really should make you work for my help... but I'm feeling... Generous. So instead, I'll only make you beg. Sit back on your knees and put your hands up to your chest like a dog. I want to see you beg like one. After all, I have to care for you like a pet."

Fyodor shudders but does it his body barely stable for very long as he holds his hands up in an imitation of paws he looks at you, embarrassment evident in his face. "Good enough, I guess." You sigh idly, he whimeprs, letting his body relax so he doesn't fall further to the floor he rests his forehead on your knee. "Please~" He whispers meakly. Finally, you move him onto the couch and lay him down with a sigh.

You go get his meds, water, and soup since you don't trust him to keep solid food down right now. You come back to him asleep, and you almost feel bad about having to wake him up, but you know you need to. He needs to eat and drink. You carefully nudge him awake and set about nursing your brilliant moron of a boyfriend back to health. You wake him up not as gently as you usually would. You shove the pills into his mouth, then yank his head back and force him to drink, double tapping his cheek once he swallows. "T-thank you... my love..." You help him eat the soup since his hands tremble. "You wouldn't be in this mess if you simply listened to me, you know." You sigh as you pet his hair the soup bowl finally empty "If you had just been a good boyfriend and accepted my care you would fine, but no you have to be a selfish stubborn brat." He looks up at you with glassy eyes. "I'm sorry... I'll try and be better..."

You shake your head and sigh, carrying him to lay down in bed. A shower will have to wait till tomorrow. "Sleep, you can make it up to me tomorrow, Fedya." He nods and nuzzles into you, clinging to you out of anxiety that you'll abandon him again. You kiss his forehead as he drifts off.

[apolloskazoo]

ELLIE & JOEL HEADCANONS PART 2

Here’s the part 2 you people (me) have been asking for. Once again 1k words because I cannot control myself

• When Ellie is looking a little down or bored and Joel isn’t right beside her, he’ll make a silly little face at her from across the room to get her to laugh a little. She always makes one back to get him to laugh, too. They can make each other laugh from literally across the room with one single look. 

• Joel keeps everything Ellie makes. Drawings, school assignments, anything and everything he can get his hands on. He has stacks of papers and other things Ellie has made just lying in his drawer or pinned up on the fridge. Ellie always talks about how lame it is, and how they’re not even good, and blah blah blah, but Joel just snatches that paper right out of her hands and pins it up on the wall because he LOVES HIS DAUGHTER. 

• One time Ellie got a cut, and while Joel was patching it up he jokingly said, “want me to kiss it better?” Ellie doesn’t understand what that even means and Joel has to explain. Now whenever she gets a cut she forces him to kiss it better because 1) it’s funny 2) to make fun of him when he said it the first time and 3) maybe she wants a Joel kiss, is that so much to ask for?

• In Jackson, Ellie learns that hardwood floors and socks can create a Very Fun Activity (sliding around a room in bare socks) and Joel has a near death heart attack every time she does it because he’s convinced she’s going to slide into a wall one day (she does).

• Joel 100% snores SO LOUDLY like the dad he is and Ellie complains about it non-stop, but in reality she can’t fall asleep without the sound of his annoying dad snores, whether they’re right in her ears or coming distantly from down the hall. It helps her know that he’s alive and okay and that he’s with her, and also it’s become like white noise since it was all she could hear during the nights they were traveling (she would tease him endlessly about raiders finding them by the sound of his snoring alone. He did not find it as funny as she did). 

• Joel is known as the “pun guy” by the other adults at Jackson, and whenever there’s a new resident they all tell them that if they have any puns, give them to Joel. The entire reason the name started up was because whenever Ellie was having a bad day, telling her a pun she hadn’t heard before would cheer her up, but he didn’t know enough of them—so, obviously, he went around telling everyone that if they knew any puns, give them to him. He has people approaching him and telling him puns weekly, and he suffers through it just to see the look on Ellie’s face when she’s sad and he tells her them to get her to smile.  

• Ellie eats things off of the floor. Don’t get me wrong, she’s NOT running around grabbing week old pieces of food off of the dirty ground, but she thoroughly believes in the five second rule and not wasting food (because of FEDRA school and not eating on the road and such, but I won’t get into that). So if she drops some food on the ground, she’ll quickly snatch it up and keep eating it, because of old habits. The first time Joel sees her accidentally tip her plate onto the floor, snatch it up in record speed, and keep eating it? He’s horrified. Speechless. Beyond shocked. Ellie Williams? Who? You mean the kid who just ate the same food that landed on the floor five seconds ago like some sort of deranged animal? Yeah, he didn’t know her, she was just some random kid. What do you mean, you saw him walking in with her when they first arrived? He’s never spoken to her a day in his life before, because if he had, he certainly would’ve taught her not to eat off the damn ground. He 100% pulls her aside, dumps the food into the trash, and lectures her on not trying to beat the world record of “person who caught the most sicknesses in under a week.” Ellie doesn’t see the big deal (“at least I’m not wasting food, Joel. And it’s hardly even dirty anyway, it was on the ground for, like, a second”) but after he starts listing off all of the diseases she could get she agrees to stop, if only to get him to stop talking. 

• Joel teaches Ellie how to build and fix things, and essentially teaches her all of the stuff he learned as a contractor and mentors her. He loves teaching it to her because it’s his work and he loves to share it with her, and Ellie loves to learn it, too. When he’s working on houses or repairs in Jackson, she tags along and helps, and she likes feeling like her and Joel share a skill together, plus she thinks building is pretty rad. Also, if she and Joel share work, they get to see each other more often, which is a bonus. They’re building buds. They have matching construction hats. 

• They take walks together, especially during the time when the sun is setting and it’s a bit cooler on hot days. Sometimes they just walk and talk, and other times Ellie brings her sketchbook and Joel brings something to carve and they walk to a river or back to the porch or somewhere peaceful, and they just sit down and do their thing. Joel works on what he’s working on, Ellie draws what’s around her or what’s on her mind. They just exist peacefully beside each other, silently bonding and doing their separate tasks beside one another. 

• Ellie pets every animal she sees. A dog is passing by? Joel, stop walking, she needs to pet him NOW!!!!! Is there a cat in the window? She will spend thirty minutes trying to get the cat to trust her enough that it will let it pet her, and an hour later it’s in her lap purring and whatever she was trying to get to has already closed up, and Joel is running to find her in a panic. She 100% brings a rat home one day and asks Joel if they can keep it (she named it Chef Boyardee Ratvioli. She does not, unfortunately, get to keep it). 

• Alternatively, Joel is such a big lame dad that he has to interact with every baby he sees. A baby is crying? Here, let Joel hold it, he’ll calm it down. Is that baby staring at him as he walks by? He’s waving and when the baby waves back he cannot control his smile. Yes, of course he’ll watch someone’s infant son for a second while they go to the bathroom despite not knowing either of them. Yes, he cries when he holds Tommy’s baby for the first time and yes, Ellie does indeed make fun of him for it (she cried, too, though, don’t listen to her lies). 

• Ellie has a hard time sleeping at night while they’re traveling, so instead of just lying down and struggling to sleep, she talks to Joel every. Night. About everything. She reads him stupid puns. She tells him dinosaur and space facts. She tells him funny made-up stories. She chats about literally everything and anything, and Joel is baffled on how much she can still talk after a whole day of walking. He complains non-stop on how he wants to sleep and she needs to shut up, but eventually he gets used to it and he even, gasp, looks forward to hearing her non-stop nighttime chattering, which usually ends in Ellie talking herself to sleep halfway through a sentence. 

Part 3 only if y’all like these and I get inspired again

[lightupthemoon]

The Effect You Got On Me: From The Vault (No. 10)

No. 10: it's gonna take me a minute but I could get used to this

No. 1 // No. 2 // No. 3 // No. 4 // No. 5 // No. 6 // No. 7 // No. 8 // No. 9

Summary: You get a call after missing Kate's competition. Drabble collection based on the events of The Effect You Got On Me.

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader.

Song: Used to This by Camila Cabello.

Warnings: Fluff. However, 18+ for previous parts, minors DNI.

Word count: 1.7 K

Read on AO3 // PLAYLIST

Author's Note: WE ARE FINALLY HERE. The end of my TEYGOM era. Thank you all so much for the comments, likes, and reblogs on both this little project and the main story, I am so very happy you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. This one is a different version of the apology in Part 5, which I only changed bc I wanted to add spice. Enjoy!

You hated missing Kate’s competition. The anger you felt had morphed into aching, a feeling so big you couldn’t ignore it even if you tried. You wanted to be there for her, with her, but the idea of showing up unnerved you, especially not knowing where you stood with Kate anymore. You weren’t exactly sure how it’d feel if Kate saw you there in the stands, cheering for her, and she didn’t even glance your way. The last few weeks had been painful enough to last you a lifetime– you didn’t want to find out. 

Nevertheless, you couldn’t sit still in your room. Your phone had been off for a couple of days to avoid Peter’s insistence on fixing the situation so things could go back to normal, and without any distractions, being within the four walls of your dorm room drove you insane. You decided the safest place to be was your hideout, that old diner off-campus that you loved so much,  bringing a small mountain of assignments with you to kill the time and keep your mind off the competition. After spending most of your college years visiting the place, the owner knew and liked you, letting you stay there all day without hesitation. He asked about Kate, wondering why she hadn't come in with you for a while, but you only smiled and said she was busy. It was all you could manage to say without feeling like crying. 

You half ate your burger and nibbled at your fries, finishing your chocolate milkshake with a loud slurp. You weren’t exactly a fan of chocolate milkshakes, but Kate loved them. It was all you had left. You set the empty glass aside, staring out of the window. The sun was coming down, which meant the competition was probably over. In one last attempt to convince you to show up America had mentioned that the group intended to have dinner at Yelena's to celebrate, and you hated how game night and celebrations with your friends were now out of your reach. 

You sighed loudly, shaking the thought from your mind, your gaze falling on the old clock at the far end of the diner. It was just past 7:35 PM. Your friends should be well on their way to Yelena’s, celebrating Kate’s latest first place. You pulled your phone out of the backpack sitting next to you on the booth, turning it on. It immediately started chirping with missing phone calls and texts appearing on your screen, most from Peter and the occasional one from Yelena. You dismissed all of them, not willing to deal with that just yet. You gathered your things, throwing them into your backpack. 

Your phone buzzed on the table, and you rolled your eyes, picking up a fry and answering without looking at the screen. “Petey boy, is what you have to tell me so important that you can't wait until tomorrow?" 

"I mean, I'm not Peter but it is very important." You almost choked on your fry. 

You pulled your phone from your ear, staring in disbelief at the name on the screen. 

"Kate?" 

“Hi.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "You have something to tell me?" 

"Yeah. I passed by your dorm but no one answered." 

"Yeah, I'm not–ar-are–America said you were going to Yelena's," You stuttered, shutting your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts. 

"Yeah, they all are at Yelena's.” You could almost picture her on the other line by the tone of her voice, nervously scratching the back of her neck. “I'll go later, I just needed to see you first." 

Your heart raced so fast you were sure it would jump out of your ribcage. "Why?" 

"I had a competition and you weren't there." 

You sighed, pushing your plate of food a little. "Well, we aren't exactly friends anymore, are we?"

"Oh, no, yeah, we are not friends anymore. I don't think we can be again, to be honest." 

"Okay, cool." You blinked, hoping your voice didn't sound as hurt as you felt. "If that's all you had to say, I'll go." 

Kate didn't say anything else, and you took her silence as her answer. You ended the call, feeling worse than you did before she called. A shuddering breath escaped you, the corners of your eyes itching a little. You threw the rest of your stuff into your backpack, leaving a few bucks on the table, and walked out of the diner while looking down at your shoes. The summer-like air hit your face as soon as you opened the door, as hot and heavy as the pain in your heart. You couldn’t wait to go back home and sulk, away from everything and anything that reminded you of–

"You gotta start letting me talk, you know."

You snapped your head up so fast your neck hurt at the sound of that voice, your eyes opening wide as saucers. Kate was leaning against the hood of your car with her arms crossed over her chest and her gloves poking out of her pocket, still wearing her archery suit. Her expression was unreadable but your heart still leaped at the sight of her. 

You gripped your backpack straps tighter, not daring to walk one more step. “I think you’ve said plenty.”

“No, I haven’t,” Kate exhaled, letting her arms drop to her sides. “At least not the important things, anyway.”

“What is it then, Kate?”

"You weren't there," she responded simply, smoothing her tongue over her lips after she spoke. She closed her eyes, seemingly trying to contain tears from falling but it was useless. When she opened them again, the blue in her eyes seemed glossy. Her voice cracked as she repeated, “I had a competition and you weren’t there.”

You could have sworn you heard your heart shatter inside you at her words, resisting the urge to lean in and wipe the tears off her face. You never wanted to see her like this, to be the reason behind the heaving of her chest as she breathed. You sniffled looking down, unable to hold her gaze. 

“Honestly, I didn’t think you wanted to see me.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Kate muttered, pushing herself off your car and slowly walking towards you. One of her hands grabbed you by the waist, emanating goosebumps with its touch over the fabric of your clothes, pulling you as close to her as she could, almost like she would die if she didn’t have every part of her body touching yours. You felt her chest rising and falling against your own, the calloused fingers of her free hand reaching for your cheek, making you look back into the ocean in her eyes as she pressed her forehead to yours, taking you in. "You were the only one I wanted to see." 

Before you could say anything else, her lips found yours in a kiss that felt like a breath of fresh air. Her mouth was soft, eager, and urgent against yours, and for the first time in weeks, you felt complete. She relished in the taste of your lips, so familiar and intoxicating, a welcomed reminder of why she had fallen for you in the first place. A small whimper escaped you, your hands falling to rest on her hips, your mouths savoring every second of the passionate kiss as if it were your last. You resented your lungs for needing air, drawing back as slowly as you could, and she chased after your lips as if the mere idea of not kissing you was unfathomable to her. Your heart was beating in your ears, your mouths ghosting over one another as you breathed each other in, the tension in the air so thick you felt if any of you spoke the magic would disappear. She pressed another kiss to your lips, achingly sweet this time, the back of her thumb caressing your cheek as she did so. 

Finally, she licked her lips, and said, "I'm sorry. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I just started having all these feelings I never had before and it freaked me out. I didn’t know what to do so I ran away. But my days without you have been hell and I need you to know that it was never just sex. You mean so much more to me. I think you always have and I just didn’t see it.” Kate sighed, her hold on your waist tightening. “But I see it now. You’re my favorite person in the world. I know I’m not Sharon, and we don’t have the history you have with her, and I don’t know what I’m doing but I need you to know that I want you, and only you. I've never wanted anything as badly as I want you."

You saw the fear in her eyes at her confession. You brought your hands to her face, stroking her cheeks with the back of your thumbs in an attempt to soothe her, a soft smile inevitably drawing on your lips. Kate leaned into your touch, waiting for you to speak. 

"Why didn't you just say that?" You muttered softly. "We could have avoided a lot of things." 

"I was scared. I still am," Kate responded in a small voice. "It's so scary to feel this way." 

You pressed your forehead to hers, a small chuckle escaping your throat. "I'm scared, too, Katie," You admitted. "But I have also never felt this way before, and I don't mind being scared as long as I get to be with you." 

You saw the moment of realization hit Kate like a truck, immediately trapping your lips in another kiss with the ghost of a teary smile on the corners of her mouth. You giggled, wrapping your arms around her neck and getting lost in her essence, a new feeling brewing within you that felt a whole lot like peace. 

She pulled away with that beautiful grin of hers you loved so much. “Does that mean you have feelings for me, too?”

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly, matching her smile. “Yes it does, you idiot.”

She circled her arms around you, making you squeal as she lifted you from the ground and spun you around, laughter bubbling out of the both of you while you held onto her neck for dear life. When she put you down, she wrapped you in a tight hug, one that made every sorrow you carried in your heart disappear instantly. 

TAGLIST: @sunshadesnrainbowz @imlike-so-gaydude @hopingforromanoff @ittynyte @girlssnrosess @assgardangod @musicinourlips @youralphawolf72

[deanstead]

There Will Be Peace (2): Into The Forest

Chapter 2: Into the Forest

Chapter Summary: Y/N heads out on a hunt with the Winchesters, but has to face the difficulty of a forest hunt.

Word Count: 1,706

Warnings: canon-typical mention of guns/weapons, blood.

A/N: Back with Chapter 2! Thank you to those who interacted with Chapter 1 and who stopped by to tell me they enjoyed it! Feedback most definitely keeps me writing!

SERIES MASTERLIST || DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST

Chapter 1 || Chapter 3

It had been six months since that day. Six months since you’d lost Leah and Seth. Six months since meeting the Winchesters. Six months since Dean had told you to get out after a week.

You were still here.

You weren’t sure if Sam had managed to convince Dean to let you stay or if Dean just hadn’t had the heart to throw you out on your ass but a week passed, and then two, and now you were on your sixth month.

You hadn’t been idling either. By the second week, you’d started helping Sam with research because as he said, it was the fastest way to learn about all the different kinds of lore. Within that same week, Dean had taken you out to teach you how to shoot. You still smiled when you remembered how his eyebrows ticked up when you’d fired prefect shots. “I was the best shot in the academy.” You told him triumphantly.

You’d pulled your weight and Dean seemed to have relented although he didn’t say much. Sam had cleared out a room for you and you’d forged a pretty good partnership and friendship with the brothers.

After staying back for research for the first month and a half, Sam had pushed for you to go on a hunt with them. Dean hadn’t responded, merely closing the door to the Impala. You’d hesitated until he wound down his window. “You coming or what?”

You still remembered that first time you felt it, a sense of belonging. You hunted with them, you ate with them, you got to come home back to the bunker with them. And you’d be eternally grateful to them for that. Eternally.

Sam walked in with his laptop at that moment, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Hey, I think I got something.”

You nodded, pushing aside the papers strewn across the table that was full of research on demons. Sam gave you a look but didn’t pursue it, instead putting the laptop down on the table.

“We’ve got people vanishing into thin air here.” Sam said, showing you the articles as Dean walked in.

“We got a case?” Dean asked, heading towards the both of you, leaning above you to read the screen, squinting. “You sure this is up our alley?”

Sam pointed. “I think it’s worth checking out.” He paused, “Look, we’re not really heading anywhere with... Let’s just check this out. A case is a case."

Dean nodded. “Alright, we’ll head out in ten.” He eyed the papers on the table before smiling at you. “You good?”

You smiled back at him and nodded.

Dean had intrigued you from the first moment you met him. He’d been a little harsh with his words sometimes, but it hadn't lasted. He’d always struck you as someone who cared deeply about others and you weren't sure when it had begun, but Dean had considerably softened with you.

Sometimes when you watched Dean and Sam’s interaction, it made you miss Leah and Seth so much that you had to tear your eyes away from them.

You looked up to where Sam and Dean were already bickering in the front seat of the Impala now and reached for the tablet to take your mind off anything else.

“Y/N, what do we have?” Dean called, looking at you through his mirror.

You smiled. A part of you knew that he was just asking you to involve you in the case and it was cute that they made such an effort.

“So this guy, Samuel Ross.” You flipped through the papers strewn across the backseat. “He went for a hike and he just disappeared.”

Dean furrowed his brow. “Disappeared, like...?”

You shrugged. “Like no one’s heard back from him for a week.”

Sam looked at Dean. “Doesn’t this remind you of that case at Blackwater?”

Dean just nodded, turning his eyes back towards the road without saying anything.

“Blackwater?” You asked a little cautiously. You were always a little careful about asking questions, just in case.

Sam turned his body slightly towards you and nodded, launching into the story. You liked it when Dean or Sam, usually Sam, told you about their old hunts. You felt like you learnt new things with every story that they told, although Dean said that was impossible since you had to be out on actual hunts to learn new things.

“Ranger Rory Allen.” Dean flashed his badge. “My partners Jacob Cole and Ava Patel.”

The park ranger on duty frowned. “HQ sent us.” Sam added quickly, as both of you showed your badges as well.

“Why would HQ send another three rangers?”

Dean and Sam looked at each other. “HQ’s concerned about the missing people.” You spoke, as Dean gave you an alarmed look. You ignored him and continued, “Samuel Ross isn’t the only one missing, is he?”

The ranger looked at you, his expression changing to a sheepish one. “HQ doesn’t miss anything, huh?”

Dean flashed you a thumbs up from behind his back and you had to stop yourself from smiling, working to keep a straight face.

Sam and Dean sat down and asked questions as you looked around the room, studying the map that was pinned up in the room.

“I think that’s all the questions we have for now. We’ll head out tomorrow to start a search party of our own.” Sam stood, nodding at you.

“Do you have a copy of this map?” You asked, pointing.

You walked out of the ranger’s office, Sam and Dean leading the way. You were already holding the copy of the map you’d asked for.

“That was freaking smooth in there, Y/N.” Dean commented, giving you a wide smile.

You grinned back. “Told you I can be an asset.”

“Told you she’s a natural.” Sam chimed in.

The next morning, the three of you had an early start, heading straight for the trail. You’d spent most of the night committing the map to heart so that the three of you weren’t slowed down by having to refer to it.

You paused at the line of the first trees. This was the first time you were coming anywhere near a forest since that night. Your eyes traced the skyline, the tops of the trees gently blowing in the wind.

“Y/N, you coming?” Sam asked.

You didn’t respond.

“Hey.” Dean’s hand was on your back now, his green eyes trying to read you. Your eyes flicked to his. “You want to sit this one out?” He asked gently.

You shook your head. “No, I’m fine. I just… I just need a moment.”

You couldn’t back out now. The boys were counting on you and besides, you couldn’t be dead weight. Not after everything they’d done for you.

“Let’s go.” You announced, tearing your eyes away from the trees. You’d be fine if you just focused.

Dean looked like he was about to say something but nodded as you picked up your steps to catch up with Sam.

Dean watched you jog to catch up with Sam. Anyone else who met you wouldn’t have known or guessed the circumstances you’d been forced into, they’d never have known this girl with sparkling eyes had seen or experienced things anyone else couldn’t have dreamed of.

Dean furrowed his brows a little, worried. You hadn’t given yourself a chance to grieve, to properly process the fact that you’d lost all your family members in the matter of a few months. Dean knew what it was like, of course he did. Whether it be the first time he felt Sam grow limp in his arms, or the time that he literally watched Sam fall into Hell, he knew. He knew what it meant to be the older sibling and feel like you’d failed your younger ones. But above all, Dean knew the desperation of wanting to bury those feelings. So he'd never broached the subject with you, just watching you carefully and making sure he was close by.

“You coming?” Sam asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Dean cleared his throat and moved, heading towards you and Sam. You knew his eyes lingered on you but you didn’t say anything, waiting until he caught up before the three of you headed deeper into the woods.

“Do you really think it’s a wendigo?” You asked Sam, as you looked around.

You weren’t new to hiking or even camping. Your dad had loved it, he’d been taking you guys out to treks and mountains since you were kids. And you’d always been proud of the fact that you knew how to survive outside. Or so you thought.

You swallowed down the thought and turned your head up towards the sky. You’d been in here for hours, you could already see the color of the sky start to change.

“Where the hell did he set up camp?” Dean almost growled. His patience had been teetering for a while so you weren’t surprised.

“He had a few days start.” You reminded Dean, as you spotted something between the trees. “Guys?” You pointed.

To anyone else, it might have looked like a wild animal had trampled through the campsite, but new as you were to hunting and the whole ‘monsters are real’ thing, you could tell this was no animal.

You took your gun out. It had been a gift from Dean after you’d shown them what a natural you were with a gun.

After being satisfied that there was nothing still lurking around the campsite, you tucked your gun into your pants and looked around at the carnage. There was a patch of blood-stained grass and an obvious tear in the fallen tent.

“This was no wild animal.” You muttered.

Dean nodded, suddenly swiveling his head towards the trees.

“Dean?” Sam asked.

Dean put his hand up.

The three of you listened. There was definitely something. Something that sounded suspiciously like a growl.

“Alright, let’s get out of here first. We have no freaking idea what we’re dealing with. Y/N, do you know…”

You nodded, glad you’d taken the time to memorize the map. “Come on.” You led the way out, picking up the pace as you headed deeper into the forest.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

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Character taglists are open!

[daincrediblegg]

okay your turn if nobody else has asked: TOP FIVE JH CHARACTERS GO

... girl... how does one choose? how does one??? when there are so many beautiful boys??? ok. OK I'll give it a shot.

5. Captain Crow - The Sea Beast This film is just incredible on every front. One of my favorite concept artists worked on it (which I did not know until a few weeks ago but now that I know I feel like kicking myself because I REALLY SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THEIR STYLE WELL ENOUGH BY NOW). But I remember watching this, and screaming when the credits began to roll because WAIT?!?!?! THAT WAS JARED HARRIS??? OH!!! WHAT A DELIGHT!!! I LOVE THAT GUY!!!! (oh babygirl wait a few months it's gonna hit you so bad). He's great. I hope we see more of him in the sequel that would be great for me.

4. Hari Seldon Honestly. What a little shit. "But Egg," you might ask "If he's such a little shit why is he on here?" well. He's hot. Really I am not over how hot this dude is. I know I couldn't fix him not in a million years. But idk. Something about him always makes my brain go brrr. So he's on here. Also I just love how fucking atypically written this show is and I have a wee soft spot for asimov. They didn't have to cast Jared as Hari and make him unbelievably hot. But they did. And he's so enigmatic. I love that.

3. John Lennon Egg's love for Jared Harris Origins. I was a Beatles girlie, ok? I'm not ashamed to admit that. It was my introductory fandom experience at the ripe old age of baby, and I really ate it up. I remember going into this movie being like "oh it's some dumb TV movie about John and Paul how good can it be?" Very good, as it turns out. And having assigned myself a John Lennon girlie I literally could never get over this depiction. The mannerisms, the fucking tripped-out way he philosophizes in conversation, the softness, and ofc the old friends tension. Jared got it all. Of course I'd seen him in stuff here and there, but this was the one that cemented him as a beloved actor in my mind for me (I literally re-wound the kiss scene as well like 20 times don't judge me but that awakened some stuff in me). Been following him ever since.

2. Lane Pryce - Mad Men This dude broke me for real. I didn't get into Mad Men until college, and binged it all on my friend's hulu account. And lemme tell ya. Did NOT see his final episode coming. Did not. And it made me genuinely weep. He was a highlight in the show. He was one of the only guys I could actually say is a good dude in that show, and he deserved so much better than he got in the end. I look at him and I'm just like... leave ur wife. Leave your job. Lets just go out of this capitalistic hellscape. I want to make him Well. I will love him forever for how he just completely destroyed me.

1.Francis Crozier / Valery Legasov - HA! you thought I was not going to tie them? WRONG! I can't keep these bad bitches apart.

Francis really needs no explanation at this point. I am so actually genuinely in love with him I'm writing a whole ass gothic romance novel of a fic for him, as you all know (and which has summarily turned out a BANGER of a modern AU as well). I made a bloody self-insert oc for him. Gothic Cinema is literally my favorite genre and Francis is the most Gothic Hero of all time, honestly (well besides Valery obviously). The serotonin he continually gives me makes my meds redundant. He is my sweet husband who I love with my whole life and that's that.

And Valery? sorry you can't put a babygirl of a man like that in front of me and not expect that I would want to jump his bones like? Not only is the constant existential dread relatable, but as much as people tell him he's not brave, he IS without a doubt, and honestly, just by virtue of uttering the most iconic logline ever fucking created he deserves this spot on this list. Both of these dudes make my soul ascend in a certain way not just with how brilliantly they were written, but with how incredibly Jared executed them (for which I want to kill the academy for not giving him awards on either). Top Beloveds forever and ever and ever amen.

[druidgroves]

Chapter 08: Rhythm of the Rain

Fandom: Fallout 4 Words: 7,844 Characters: Georgia Tate (Canon Divergent Sole Survivor), RJ MacCready Notes: hi this is one of my fav chapters so far pls enjoy >:3c

read on ao3 ch. 1 / ch. 2 / ch. 3 / ch. 4 / ch. 5 / ch. 6 / ch. 7

For the next three weeks, the settlement game became a hell of a lot easier. They’d rock up to wherever, the Boss would charm the settlers silly with her lofty promises for aid, and they would pay her with whatever caps they could scrape together. The first time Mac had actually tried to press her into asking for more–there was no way he was clearing out a possible feral den without proper reimbursement–she had fixed him with a look so severe that he almost ate his words. She ended up giving him part of her share to make up for it, and Mac had been in no hurry to stop her.

She had given him his weekly pay three times in that interim, always on time and with her promised compensation when caps were low. By the time the Boss would be ready to head back to the city at the end of the month, his pack would be full to bursting with all he’d earned under her. For all the good samaritan work they were doing for the Minutemen, at least working with the Boss was never without reward, and it certainly wasn’t dull.

However, if he didn’t know it before, after three weeks on the road with her, Mac found out the Boss talked a lot.

He might as well have learned everything about her for how much she talked. He learned that her favorite color was something called “blush pink”, that she preferred Nuka-Cherry to Nuka-Cola, and that she had a strong hatred for any sort of bug (that one he knew already after the Radroach Incident, but it only became more clear after the later Bloodbug Incident). He learned that she enjoyed cooking but disliked doing it on the road, loved books but had a weird hang-up about “bending the spines”, and hated the song “A Wonderful Guy” whenever it played on the radio, but would be humming it under her breath an hour later. In addition to her books, he found her to be a magazine collector as well–he’d even gotten a few new comics out of it.

“Bullshit,” she had said one day as they walked. “Are you really tryin’ to tell me that Grognak could take on the Silver Shroud? And win?”

“Grognak could smash that nerd’s head in with his axe, easy,” Mac argued, kicking a rock in the road that Dogmeat went chasing after. “What could the Shroud do? Talk funny at him? Please.”

“Oh, them’s fightin’ words, Mac! So, here’s why you’re wrong—”

(She had then gone on for ten minutes straight).

Mac also learned things about the Boss that weren’t so straightforward as her telling him about herself. Instead, he learned through watching. Not in a creepy way, but in the way that two people traveling together naturally ended up watching each other–sometimes they were the only interesting thing around. He saw that she kept three bobby pins in her hair; two for pinning her low bun in place and one for picking locks. He watched when she would type faster than anyone he’d ever seen, fingers flying over the keys as she hacked her way into any terminal that caught her fancy. He’d seen her cut herself off mid-sentence, then switch the direction of her words like she was avoiding something, but he never called her on it. He saw when she popped a Rad-X before every meal and whenever she brushed her teeth every morning. He knew she had a particular way she packed her things, always pushed her glasses up with her middle finger, and always made a face whenever he’d pick over raider corpses.

“Y’know, this would go a lot faster if you’d help,” Mac had said one evening as he shoved his hand into the inner pocket of one of their vests, coming out with a few cigarettes and some caps.

They’d been clearing the road for traders heading northwest from one of her Minutemen settlements—raiders had been attacking their caravans and stealing their wares, and they’d finally found the hideout as well as the missing cargo. Mac couldn’t remember which settlement had sent out the call, only that they’d gotten word over Radio Freedom and would be paid one hundred and fifty caps upon their return.

The Boss had tried a charismatic approach when they came up to the “toll” the raiders had put up, but it had turned into a shootout the moment their leader recognized who she was. The fact that the guy whose corpse he was now picking over knew her by title concerned Mac, in so far as his connection to her. He had to remind himself that as General, she was still a known quantity, and he was willingly tagging along with her. When all was said and done, though, Mac didn’t mind the extra spoils he got when it came down to the mighty General of the Minutemen’s disdain for picking over bodies.

He looked over his shoulder to where he knew the Boss had been standing, watching him with thinly veiled abhorrence. Her arms were crossed and her nose was scrunched up like she’d smelled something awful.

“Where I’m from, that’s called desecration of a corpse. If I can help it, I’d rather not go diggin’ around in someone else’s pockets,” she said, averting her eyes as he began patting over another body.

Mac almost had to laugh as he pulled out a handful of shotgun shells from their pockets. Scavving off cadavers was standard wasteland practice as far as he was concerned–the dead had no use for extra ammo or a handful of caps. He’d always heard that you “can’t take it with you”, but he figured someone else always could, and he quite liked being that someone else. It paid well.

“So, I guess you’re not interested in these then, right?” he asked, and held the shells aloft for the Boss to see.

“Well, I mean, I am, but—”

(She’d stuck her tongue out at him when she took them later–another one of her little habits).

By the middle of that second week, Mac had come to realize there were many things about the Boss that he couldn’t quite make sense of.

His big theory was that she’d come from a vault, he just hadn’t figured out how to ask which one. He didn’t want a repeat of that night in the library when she closed up faster than a bear trap after his big mouth got away from him. He had a feeling she kept her personal business close to the chest, but even so, he was still incredibly curious about her. He’d decided that she couldn’t have been from any of the local vaults early on, given that two were overrun with Gunners and another by triggermen. Mac was fairly confident in the idea that she couldn’t be from Vault 81 simply because none of their traders that he’d seen and heard sounded like the Boss with all her clipped G’s and long I’s. They all had some variation of the Commonwealth on their tongues that he could never imagine her speaking with.

There was also the Boss’ strangest habit of saying things that didn’t quite make sense. Three weeks to the day they met–it was January something, all Mac knew was that the New Year had come and gone while they were busy doing a clean up job on some mutants–a radstorm rolled over the Commonwealth, long overdue.

He had smelled the radiation on the air before the telltale green clouds made themselves known, and when the geiger counter on the Boss’ Pip-Boy started clicking, it hadn’t taken much to convince her to duck into the nearest building. After they made sure it was clear of hostiles and the Boss had dispensed some Rad-X for the two of them, they had settled into one of the Slocum’s Joe booths to wait out the storm. Dogmeat was tucked under the table between them, fallen asleep last Mac knew.

Now, the sounds of Diamond City Radio played softly from the Boss’ Pip-Boy, marred by static and Travis’ anxious reporting. An hour had passed and the storm showed no signs of letting up any time soon, hellbent on making sure the Commonwealth remembered what mother nature was capable of. Mac had pulled out his comics a while ago, knowing they’d be there for a bit, while the Boss had contented herself with chain smoking and watching the rain through the window, humming quietly along to the radio.

“Funny which songs survived two hundred years,” she said suddenly, a cloud of smoke hanging in the air around them as “The Wanderer” faded out. Her words pulled Mac out of his issue of the Unstoppables.

“Huh?”

“If it were up to me, I’d’ve let both parts of ‘Butcher Pete’ go the way of the old world,” she continued, the corner of her mouth curling slightly.

Thunder boomed high above them as Travis’ voice came on the radio again. The Boss frowned and, without tearing her eyes away from the storm, lowered the volume on her Pip-Boy a few notches.

“What about ‘A Wonderful Guy’?”

“That one, too.”

Silence fell between them again after that, so Mac went back to reading his comic. The Boss ashed her cigarette onto an old dinner plate. The quiet lasted all of two minutes before she spoke again.

“How long do these things usually last?” she asked, nodding towards the window.

“What? Oh,” Mac replied, pulled out of his reading once again as he followed her gaze. “Depends. Haven’t had one in a while, so this one looks like it’s gonna be a beast.”

The Boss seemed both captivated and concerned by the storm, her eyes having never left the window since they sat down in the booth. She was bathed in the glowing green light provided by both the storm itself as well as her Pip-Boy. She looked at the sky like she was trying to study it, entranced by how the clouds rolled over themselves and bounced around jagged bolts of lightning. The light reflected in her glasses, the crack in the right frame fracturing the view into several smaller ones. Thankfully, the crack hadn’t been large enough to render her glasses obsolete, and in the few weeks they’d been together, Mac knew well enough that she was blind as a damn molerat without them.

“So we might as well get ready to hunker down, huh,” she muttered after a bit, finally turning away from the window.

She sighed and put out her cigarette, then began poking through her pack. She came away with a bottle of Rad-X, the pills inside rattling as she took it out. It was her own personal stash–Georgia’s, DO NOT TOUCH written on duct tape slapped over the label, but she shook out two capsules despite it. She dry-swallowed one before holding out the other for him.

“You’re real paranoid about rad sickness, Boss,” he said, but took the capsule anyways–far be it from him to refuse anything free. “No offense.”

“‘Scuse me for not wantin’ my insides to turn bright green.”

“Pretty sure that’s not what happens.”

“It’s called a joke, Mac.”

“Really? Then you need better material.”

“I’m gonna start callin’ you Mac the Mouth, I swear. Nothin’ but sass from you,” she laughed as thunder and lightning crackled outside. Mac was suddenly grateful for the miraculously still-intact glass in the windows nearest them, and the boards covering the ones further away.

“Wouldn’t be the worst name I’ve been called,” he shrugged, closing his comic book and stowing it away in his pack to swap for his journal and a pencil.

She stuck her tongue out at him as he opened his journal to a blank page near the back. The Boss was a very chatty woman, her endless need for conversation pulling him out of his reading more than once, so he opted to scribble instead. Doodling never required much focus from him, so if the Boss kept talking, it wouldn’t be as much of a bother.

“You draw?” she asked as he put his pencil to paper, her interest piqued. Mac felt heat creep up the back of his neck as he reflexively shifted his arm to hide the pages of his journal.

“I wouldn’t call it drawing, really. Mostly uh, comic stuff,” he said with an attempt at a nonchalant shrug. “They’re not good, believe me.”

She pursed her lips, disbelieving, “C’mon, don’t put yourself down. Can I see?”

“They’re just doodles. They’re nothing serious, I promise,” he said, trying to get her to lay off.

“Please?” I won’t make fun of you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“They’re really not anything special,” he tried to insist. “I just followed those step-by-step instructions in the back of my comics.”

“Okay, but I don’t wanna look at the instructions, I wanna look at your’s.”

Mac groaned, running a hand down his face. Knowing that she could keep pestering him forever if she put her mind to it (she was nothing if not stubborn, he had come to find out), he relented, leaning back and turning his journal around for her to see. He had started sketching out a body but had stopped mid-torso, and suddenly feeling like he needed to impress her with his mediocre artistry, he flipped back a few pages to some of his other work. The Boss’ eyes grew wide with curiosity and glee as he did, putting her short, delicate-looking fingers on the pages but leaving the journal where it was on the table.

“Mistress of Mystery fan?” she asked with a grin as she looked over the page, his best rendition of the femme fatale winking over her misshapen shoulder with a crooked eye. He was pretty sure he’d accidentally skipped over a step somewhere in there.

“Like I said, mostly comic stuff,” he shrugged again, feigning indifference to any opinion she had about his drawings. Even if he wasn’t his own biggest fan, there was the tiniest part of him that wanted her to like them, even a little bit. He quickly stamped it out like a cigarette butt on a sidewalk and moved past it.

The Boss looked up at him expectantly when she began pulling at the corner of the page, as if asking for permission to peruse further. Biting the inside of his cheek, Mac nodded hesitantly, thinking suddenly of all the half-written letters to Duncan towards the front.

“Just don’t go too far.”

She gave him that familiar, sparkling smile, all excited and full of perfectly straight teeth as she nodded and turned the page. A half finished bust of Grognak in a power pose was in one corner next to a detailed depiction of his axe, while a simpler doodle of a super mutant in a similar muscle-flexing pose stood in the opposite corner. It garnered a laugh out of the Boss as she turned the page again, flipping to one of his other attempts at drawing without a guide.

Mac grimaced. He’d forgotten about that one.

“...A Mr. Handy?” she tried after a minute, raising an eyebrow and biting her lip.

Mac sank into his seat, looking away as he said, “...It’s Dr. Brainwash. From the Unstoppables. Y’know, this guy?”

He flipped open the top of his pack and pulled out the edge of the comic he’d put away earlier. The Boss’ eyes flitted from his journal to the comic book, trying to fight a laugh the longer she looked between them. He knew he butchered it, but shit, she didn’t have to be so obvious about it.

“Oh, of course,” she said, and he could tell she was trying her hardest to keep up a supportive front. “Silly me. Looks…looks just like him.”

“You said you weren’t going to make fun of me.”

“I’m not! It looks so good, Mac, I promise. You really tried and that’s what matters.”

“Alright, alright, hand it back if you’re gonna be like that,” he chided, narrowing his eyes at her.

The Boss finally laughed, closing his journal before sliding it back over the table. He’d never really shown people his doodles, never had anyone ask, but he honestly should have expected it from the Boss the moment he pulled them out.

“Really, Mac, you’re an artist. Don’t matter if you’re ‘good’ or not,” she said, more earnestly than her other comments, and leaned back as Dogmeat let out a snore from under the table. Mac had almost forgotten he was there; he’d been still and quiet since he disappeared under the table.

“I don’t know if I’d go so far as to call me an ‘artist’, but uh, thanks, I guess,” he said, flipping the journal back open to the page he’d been on.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, Picasso,” the Boss said with a definitive sigh as she slid out of the booth. He made a face at the unfamiliar name, but left it at that. “I’m gonna poke around, see if there’s any good scrap.”

She turned up the radio again as she left, the end of Travis’ reporting filtering through the static as he shilled ads for Arturo’s shop, before giving way to more music. Dogmeat shifted under the table by Mac’s feet as he returned to his drawing. He could hear the Boss humming to herself as she went behind the diner counter, opening cabinets and drawers and rummaging through them.

Now, Mac understood resourcefulness. He really did. He could appreciate getting crafty when supplies were short at hand. What he couldn’t abide by, however, was the woman’s ridiculous hoarding of junk. Because that’s what it was despite her reasoning that it had use “somehow.” He point blank refused to carry any of her crap when she tried once more to lighten her haul onto him. He eventually sat down and ran her through what would and wouldn’t sell on the market last he knew, the going rates for various choice scrap, and what was better left behind in an effort to be more efficient in what she scavved. The Boss was still working on that last part, unfortunately. Her pack jingled with matching salt shakers and a vase wrapped in her spare clothes, tucked next to a framed picture and faded postcards taken off the walls of the various places they’d been through. It was all old world junk to him, but she delighted in picking them out of the two hundred year old ruins and looking over them with reverence.

By the time he was done drawing and redrawing the Silver Shroud’s jawline before giving up, the Boss was pouring her newest haul over the table. A Nuka-Cherry (off to a good start–he couldn’t begrudge her a soda every now and then), a handful of caps (even better), a pair of thick rubber gloves (alright?) and a pile of holotapes with faded orange plastic (...interesting).

“Look at what I found,” the Boss said as she sat down, popping open her soda on the edge of the table and flicking the cap over to him. Mac caught it with a sniper’s reflex, looking over the pile before him.

She picked up one of the holotapes, holding it up to her face to look for any indication as to what was on it as she took a sip from the bottle. “There was a pile of holos in an old drawer in the kitchen and I wanted to look at them ASAP.”

“Of course you did,” he said and she clicked her tongue at him. He rolled the cap across his fingers as he tacked on, “Plenty of people out there are willing to pay good caps for working holos. Most people end up wiping the memory for their own uses, though.”

“And erase what’s on ‘em? God, how much information has been lost that way?” she said, suddenly looking very distraught at the idea. She shook it off after a moment, shaking her head, “Well, I’m not wipin’ ‘em. If I’m right about what’s on them, they’ll be worth keepin’.”

She put her drink on the table and pulled her Pip-Boy closer to her. Mac watched as she hit a button or a switch or whatever, and a tray popped open on the top. She slipped one of the tapes inside at random before closing it and pressing play. It took a second for the tape to start, skipping a little at the beginning, but as soon as music began to play, the Boss’ face lit up like the stadium lights over Diamond City.

“Oh, my god, I know this song!” she cried out in excitement, cranking up the volume over the rain now beating against the window with fervor. The music was upbeat and inviting, and it showed in the way the Boss started climbing out of the booth again, feet tapping and hips swirling as soon as she hit the floor.

“Come, let’s stroll / stroll across the floor / come, let’s stro-oh-oh-oll / stroll across the floor / now turn around, baby / let’s stroll once more…”

Mac watched her in puzzled amusement, mouth curling at the corners despite the shaking of his head. The Boss strolled across the diner, her moves simple but done with a certain swagger exaggerated by the way she moved her shoulders and rolled her hips to the music. All the commotion woke up Dogmeat from under the table, who padded out to join his owner once he saw her moving about. He looked up at her, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth as he pranced in circles around her. The Boss laughed, carefully sidestepping around the hound before finally catching Mac shaking his head at her.

“What are you doing?”

She laughed again, still dancing as she raised her voice over the music, “You dance, Hotshot?”

Mac barked out a laugh, shaking his head fervently, “Not a chance in he–uh, no way, Boss. Not enough caps in the world to convince me.”

“Hundred and fifty got you walkin’ with me all over the Commonwealth, though,” she pointed out with a smirk, slinking back over towards him.

“True, but I never learned how to dance, so.”

“C’mon. How much more to get you to bust a move?”

“Sorry, Boss, contract’s already been signed. No new amendments,” he said, tipping his hat to her with a flourish and she laughed, throwing her head back. It was easy to make her laugh, he’d found out.

“Where was that attitude after the library job?” she quipped as the music began to fade.

“Dunno, guess I just found it.”

Mac gave her his shit-eating grin and a shrug as she made her way back over and fell into her side of the booth in a heap, Dogmeat hopping up to sit beside her. She settled back and turned down the volume on her Pip-Boy as the next song began to play.

“What brought all that out?” he asked finally, curious to her reasoning.

“Memories of better times,” she said after a beat, quiet.

Mac had a rush of deja-whatever, bringing him back to that time in the library, when he’d asked what he thought was a simple question that only belied a more complicated answer. She’d shut down faster than the lightning currently streaking across the sky outside. For a moment, the air between them seemed to change, but it passed just as quickly as it had rattled through him. The Boss still had her smile on, if a little strained, but he knew they were good.

“Used to have a bunch of gal pals that I would go out dancin’ with,” she said after a moment, already lost in whatever memory she was recounting. “God, there was this one time we went out to this new dance hall we’d never been to. They played that song and everyone but my friends and I were dancin’ all stiff and formal-like, it was like they’d never been to a party and the word ‘dance’ wasn’t in their vocabulary.”

Her attention had once again returned to the storm, staring out at the south Boston sky. Mac had about a billion questions from her opening line alone, but he didn’t dare speak out for fear that she’d clam up if she realized what she was doing. He kept stone still as he continued to listen, years of hard-won sniper training settling over him.

“People were pairin’ off all save-room-for-jesus style and my friends and I were completely over it,” she said with a vague annoyance in her voice. “We were standin’ there next to each other across from a couple people who must’ve had the same idea it seemed, because as soon as we paired off and hit the floor, we were doin’ about half of what I did, except two feet closer and practically on top of each other.” She paused to bring her hand up to loosely twirl one of the strands of hair at the back of her neck. “Goodness, the way we did it, you’d think we had stripped naked by the reactions of the–and get this–dance hall monitors. They kicked us out for ‘immoral behavior’ and ‘vulgar dancin’.’ Can you believe it?”

The Boss finished her story with a breathless laugh to Mac’s confused but attentive expression, crystal-clear nostalgia washing over her after she was done. Half of the things she’d just said barely made any sense to him no matter what context he put it in, but the big picture of it clicked for him immediately: he’d had her pegged wrong all along. Unless she was lying for fun, which didn’t seem her style, then she wasn’t from any sort of vault period, not with a story like that. What kind of vault had whatever the hell a ‘dance hall’ was? Let alone more than one? And what the hell were dance hall monitors?

As Mac sat there in his realization, soaking up that tiniest bit of personal information from her, he realized that for all he had learned about her in the past few weeks, from menial shit like her morning routine to her eating habits, he still didn’t know a goddamn thing about her.

“Hellooo? Earth to MacCready?”

The Boss’ hand waving in front of his face brought him back to reality, his mouth moving faster than his brain as he blurted, “I’mfromtheCapitalWasteland.”

“What?”

“I’m from the Capital Wasteland,” he repeated, clearing his throat. “I mean, where I’m from, we didn’t have whatever a dance hall is or that song or dance hall monitors. Where the hell are you from that has all of that?”

Before she could answer, all his mind could supply was deja-vu.

Just like the library, the Boss’ face fell and she was leaning back slowly on her side of the booth, arms crossing over her chest in a defensive shield. Mac was already mentally kicking himself for him and his goddamn mouth, prepared for her to stonewall again and shut him down. But she didn’t.

“It’s…a long story,” she said finally with a sigh, once again reaching up to tug at the loose blonde curl at the nape of her neck. Mac watched as she wrapped it tight around her finger, skin going red between the strands. “More confusin’ than is worth it to tell.”

He raised a helpless eyebrow as she continued to fidget, “More confusing than the one you just told me?”

“One hundred percent. It’s not that I don’t trust you, ‘cause I do,” she said like it was that easy, and Mac didn’t quite know how that made him feel. Either she was too trusting (entirely plausible) or he was too cagey (also likely). “It’s just…a lot.”

“I could try to follow along,” he dared to say, taking advantage of the way she continued to talk to him through the crack in the metaphorical door instead of closing it entirely. He had his foot in, maybe he could wiggle in a little more.

“Soon, maybe, just…not tonight,” she said, her metaphorical chain lock catching his metaphorical door with finality. “It’s a little hard to talk about. Too much to get into.”

That, Mac could understand. Feelings weren’t really his forte, he never felt confident in what to do with them. But what sort of place did the Boss come from that made her so evasive? If she wasn’t from a vault, where did she get the Pip-Boy still playing quietly on the table? Very little about his employer made sense—General of the Minutemen, First Ever Rad-X Addict, the only wastelander (?) with teeth that straight, and a vulgar threat to dance halls everywhere, apparently—and it was almost enough to make Mac’s head spin.

“Can I ask you a question about your first story then?” he asked instead of the thousands of other questions he had, burning to be asked.

Her eyebrow, the one with the scar through it, arched behind her glasses.

“You got kicked out of a hall where you dance…for dancing?”

Like neon light breaking through Goodneighbor’s haze, the Boss’ grin reappeared. The green light of the radglow illuminated them in the darkness of the diner, glinting off her glasses as she began to laugh.

“Vulgarly,” she reminded him between her laughter. He couldn’t help but join her and suddenly it was like everything was back to normal between them, personal revelations notwithstanding.

Later that night, when the storm had finally moved on but had stuck around long enough that the skies were still dark afterwards, they set up their sleeping bags behind the diner counter. Dogmeat settled up against the Boss as Mac volunteered to stay up for first watch. The Boss had looked particularly tired, and had stopped talking as much as the night went on. If Mac knew anything about her at this point, it was that if the Boss wasn’t talking, something was wrong. Sleep usually fixed most problems in his experience.

Besides, he needed some time to himself to sort through the emotional whiplash he’d experienced during their conversation. Mac thought he had her mostly figured out, given all her previously thought “obvious” tells. Then one little story had turned everything on its head and replaced it with burning curiosity. The Boss was an enigma all her own, every new fact he learned about her canceling out anything he thought he knew. Even so, he couldn’t help the gnawing need to make sense of her.

He chalked it up to wanting to know exactly whose hands he was putting his life into, but then again, he’d made it out alive of every situation she’d put him in after three weeks. He could trust her to do that, at least, even if he was only holding out for Duncan by the time she’d met him. She’d given him a little bit of slack in his rope, so to speak, when she hired him. Gave him a little bit of hope at the end of a long, dark metro tunnel.

But, since he wasn’t ever allowed to be particularly hopeful for very long, he bitterly reminded himself that what they had going couldn’t possibly last. How long did she tell her reporter friend it would be before she’d be back to Diamond City? A month? He knew how most contracts like their’s worked: some schmuck hires you, sticks around with you until they can make their way back to a major settlement because pissing off a hired gun on the road isn’t the smartest move if they’ve hired you for a reason, and then end business there before picking up another gun somewhere else. It was similar to caravan work, the brahminhands and caravan guards trading off walking alongside whichever traders paid well. And with how good the Boss paid…

He had a week left, he decided suddenly, selfishly. He had a week left to convince her that he was irreplaceable, if only because it meant more caps to send back home if she decided he was worth keeping on. He’d pretend like her goody two-shoes, above and beyond approach to the Minutemen didn’t make him roll his eyes sometimes, pretend that her cryptic hints into her life weren’t driving him nuts, and he’d never miss a target coming through an unnoticed exit. He’d keep watching her back, help keep her alive until she realized that he was better than any soldier from her rinky dink militia. His own survival–the survival of his son–depended on it.

----------

The next morning on the road, over a breakfast of scavenged pre-packaged food the Boss had found after another sweep of the kitchens, Mac could tell she had something on her mind. Given the tone of the night before, he kept it simple between them and didn’t talk much except to eat and pack up.

Dogmeat took point ahead of them once they were on the road, and in between keeping his own head on a swivel, Mac’s eyes would fall to the Boss every now and again. He knew the night had ended on a heavy note, and he’d also had a lot on his mind after, but the longer they walked and she still hadn’t started her usual errant chatter, he began to worry. She hadn’t even told him where their next stop was, he realized.

“So,” they both said at the same time.

“Oh, you go first,” the Boss said quickly before he could say the same.

“So,” Mac said again, “where are we headed next?”

“Oh, shit, I forgot to tell you, we’re goin’ to the Castle. Tuned into Radio Freedom for a bit before you woke up,” she explained, tapping the screen of her Pip-Boy through her jacket. “Someone named Ronnie Shaw really wants to talk to me—put the message on repeat out on the main line and everythin’—and she didn’t sound like the type to be kept waitin’, so gotta heed the call and all that.”

“Good thing we were already in the neighborhood then,” he said, then spun it back around to her, “So what were you gonna say earlier?”

“About last night,” she said after a moment, hesitant. “I don’t mean to be so…cagey sometimes. I just have a lot goin’ on that’s hard to explain, but then I realized that I still don’t know a whole lot about you, either, so I thought maybe we could make a game out of it. Like an icebreaker.”

“What’s an icebreaker?”

“Gettin’ to know each other, ‘breakin’ the ice’, y’know,” she said, and he shook his head to indicate that he did not. “It’s supposed to help with team bondin’ and all of that. I get that you gotta keep up with your whole ‘cool, loner mercenary’ schtick, so it may sound a bit gradeschool–”

“Wait, you think I’m cool?”

“Don’t let it go to your head. Anyways,” she went on, attempting to suppress a grin, “I was just thinkin’, we’ve spent a few weeks watchin’ each other’s backs, patchin’ each other up–well, mostly you patchin’ me up, but that’s besides the point. We’ve walked from one end of the Commonwealth to the other it feels like, but if we’re gonna be workin’ and travelin’ together, I think it’s high time we play the ‘gettin’ to know you’ game for real. Ever play Twenty Questions?”

“No, but I think I get the idea. Seems pretty obvious,” he replied with another shake of his head. If a silly little game was the way to make sure she stuck with him, then so be it. He could humor her and play along for what she was paying him.

“Great. One caveat, though,” she said, and he arched an eyebrow, “we can veto any of each other’s questions and we don’t have to explain why. We just can’t veto everything.”

The rule was probably more for her benefit than his given her whole…thing, but he was glad it was there just in case. God knew he had his own baggage he didn’t want to get into.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Alright then, you first. Ask away.”

Caught off guard, Mac thought for a minute. His litany of questions were nowhere to be found now that he was put on the spot.

“Shi–uh, crap, I dunno. Uh…How about this: If you’re not from a vault, where’d you get that Pip-Boy?” he asked, nodding to her arm.

“I never said I wasn’t from a vault,” she said matter-of-factly, and he held in a sigh at her evasive answer. She tugged the sleeve of her jacket up to tap her nails against the screen of the device, “but I got this from one.”

“Obviously. Boots, too?” He pointed to the practically pristine condition of the black leather on her feet. Barely a scuff on them.

“Aht, my turn to ask a question, Hotshot,” she said with a cheeky grin. She bit her lip and tapped her chin with her finger, thinking. “What’s with the swearin’? Or the lack of it, actually. You’ve heard my mouth, I’m not gonna make you wash your mouth out with soap, y’know.”

Mac grimaced. He knew that had to come up sooner or later.

“It’s not about you, it’s about a promise I made to someone that I wouldn’t do it anymore,” he replied after a moment. He, too, could reply with non-answers. “Or at least try not to. Still a work in progress, I guess.”

“Hm. Interestin’.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Is that your question?”

“No. My question is…” He thought for a second, choosing his next words carefully. He perked up when they came to him. “Where’s your accent from? You don’t sound like you’re from Boston.”

“God, I hope not. Can you imagine?” The Boss laughed, then put on her best Boston accent, “‘Wicked smaht, get a load a’ this fahkin’ guy!’ Jesus.”

Mac snorted, “I’m pretty sure you just offended everyone in a ten mile radius. Still didn’t answer my question, though.”

“Accent’s from down south,” she replied, choosing her words just as carefully. “Arkansas, specifically.”

Where the hell is Arcansaw? Mac wondered, but we’re getting warmer. He kept the question in his back pocket as an option for later anyhow.

“Who’d you make your promise to?” she asked for her next question.

Mac shook his head. “Uh-uh, veto.”

He wasn’t opening that can of worms right now, because if he brought up Duncan, he’d have to bring up his illness, why he wasn’t back home taking care of him, why he needed every cap he could get…If the Boss had her own stuff that was too much to get into, he had the right to keep the deep shit under wraps, too.

“Alright, new question then,” she nodded, though he could tell she still wanted to know. “Oh! Your name! You’ve never actually told me your first name. It’s not MacCready, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” he said with a shake of his head. “My first name is Robert, but my friends used to call me RJ.”

“RJ,” she repeated, like she was testing it out before she quickly added, “What’s the J stand for?”

“Joseph,” he answered without thinking, then made a face. “Hey, wait, that’s not fair. I get to ask two questions this time.”

The Boss grinned, satisfied she had pulled one over on him, but relented anyway, “Fine, fine, ask your questions.”

“Where’s Arkansas?”

“Ever heard of Texas? Near there, but northeast a ways. Second question?”

“How’d you get all the way up here from down there?” he prodded. He knew from the educational holotapes passed down through the hands of every Little Lamplighter before him that there was a lot of wasteland between that area and the Commonwealth.

She paused for a moment, eyebrows furrowed behind the frame of her glasses.

“Moved up here for higher education,” she replied after a beat, whatever that meant. Getting colder. “This one isn’t my question, but you said last night you were from the Capital Wasteland, right? What’s it like out there?”

“God-awful,” Mac said swiftly with a dismissive snort, “but it was—is, home, I guess. Most of it’s destroyed, at least D.C. is. We don’t have as many intact buildings as Boston does. Outskirts aren’t as bad, but they’re just as dangerous. We’ve got clean water, though, so that’s a plus. I actually know the person who did that, but don’t go telling anyone. She’s private.” And doing me a huge goddamn favor right now. “What’s Arkansas like?”

The Boss shrugged, her right hand reaching over to rub over the left, “Wouldn’t know. Been a while since I’ve visited…Can I veto the home questions? It’s makin’ me homesick.”

“Consider the subject vetoed,” he nodded, holding his hands up. Definitely getting colder.

She nodded back a thanks, then thought on her next question for a moment.

“Why RJ?” she asked suddenly, “Not Rob, or Robby, or Bert—”

Mac wrinkled his nose at her so aggressively that it startled a laugh out of her.

“Absolutely not. If someone called me ‘Bert’, I’d shoot them on the spot.”

“Answer the question, RJ.”

He shrugged in exasperation, throwing his hands up again, “I dunno, okay? The other kids just started calling me that when I got left there—”

As soon as the Boss’ eyebrows shot up, he cut himself off with a sigh. He could anticipate her next question, but she’d have to wait her turn. “...How old are you?”

“It’s impolite to ask a lady her age, y’know,” she replied, sticking out her tongue.

“Oh? That’s weird, because I don’t see one around here–Ow, jesus, okay, okay, I’m sorry!”

“I’m twenty-four,” she snipped, massaging her hand, then added, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two,” he replied, rubbing his shoulder. The Boss suddenly looked surprised. “What?”

“I just thought you’d be older,” she shrugged.

Huh. That was a first. It was usually the other way around.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Sure. Next question?” the Boss supplied.

“Hmm…What’s with the constant Rad-X? You take it like it’s going out of style, and none of the other vault dwellers I know pop ‘em like you do. If you are a vault dweller, that is.”

Given her non-answer around the question, he still couldn’t be too sure.

“I’m countin’ that as two questions, just so you know,” she said before he could argue. “I didn’t grow up around radiation like most people, so I don’t have as good of a resistance. I’ve been inside a vault, but not for very long. Or so it felt.”

Radiation was everywhere, so he thought, an inescapable fact of life for the past two hundred years. The idea that there was somewhere out there so untouched by it to the point where he’d seen the Boss go a little queasy at even a few ticks from the geiger counter was a foreign concept to Mac. So much so, that he didn’t even catch the cryptic ending of her answer.

He had always thought the entire world had been lost to the bombs, no stone unturned. Even the people that still remembered that world, alive but ghoulified, bore the scars of nuclear war.

“Alright, my two questions,” she went on, fingers steepled in front of her chin and he didn’t bother to protest. “Don’t think I forgot—” well, maybe he should have, “—what do you mean ‘got left there?’ Where? Elaborate.”

Mac groaned. It wasn’t the question that bothered him. Despite it all, he had some pride in where he came from, given that they were just a bunch of stupid kids that very well could have died had shit gone horribly south. While he used to sing the praises of ‘pure fucking anarchy’ during his mayorship, someone had to make sure Little Lamplight was kept (mostly) in one piece, which meant there needed to be at least a little bit of organization. Had to make sure it didn’t completely fall apart for the other kids that came after them. With that in mind, he was both grateful and incredulous that he managed to make it to twenty-two years of age under such circumstances. There were a lot who weren’t so lucky.

What really bothered him, though, were the mixed reactions whenever he explained Little Lamplight to outsiders. They usually fell into one of two categories: the disbelievers who usually accused him of lying, or the assholes whose first reactions were to get weird or make fun of him about it.

“I lived underground in a place called Little Lamplight with a bunch of other kids,” he said at last, trying to gauge the Boss’ reaction as he continued. “Just kids.”

Her face fell, genuine concern overtaking her features and almost disbelieving as she stopped in her tracks. Mac stumbled then stopped a few steps ahead of her, and even Dogmeat turned back to look at them, head tilted to the side.

“And no adults? At all?” she asked, and the tone of her voice told Mac that she definitely wasn’t asking as part of the game, and that it may have just ended, actually.

He shook his head as they stood there in the middle of the road, staring each other down. The two of them were on guard immediately, but he could not for the life of him figure out why she was.

“Having adults around wasn’t really something we could trust. We got kicked out when we turned sixteen.”

At that, the Boss looked aghast.

“...How did kids end up there? How did you end up there?” she demanded, incredulity and indignation screwing up her face.

Mac tensed. The Boss had fallen into and created a third reaction category all her own: pity.

“Like a lot of the other kids,” he bristled, defensiveness rising further within him. “Get left there, usually. Look, we turned out fine for the most part—”

“Mac,” she breathed, entirely horrified, “that–that’s awful, I’m so sor—”

“Hey, I don’t need your pity,” he snapped before she could finish the word, pointing an accusing finger at her. He was not about to be felt sorry for, of all fucking things. “Just like a colony you’d find anywhere else, we all had our designated jobs and we watched each other’s backs. I damn well made sure of it. I ran a tight fu–freaking ship.”

“You were in charge of everyone?!” she seethed, her voice raised and barely concealing the fury behind it, channeling it into the shaking of her tightly clenched fists. When she spoke again, her voice went soft, but her grip did not. “Mac–RJ, hun, that’s…you get how that’s messed up, right? No kid should have to go through that—”

“You don’t have to tell me how sorry my life is, I lived it,” he spit, fingers digging into the fabric of his duster. “Veto.”

“I—Okay,” she said, forcing the anger in her voice to dissipate, replacing it with stiff restraint. She started walking again, moving past him with purpose as she hiked her pack further up. “Game over. We’re almost to the Castle anyways.”

[mcwexlerscigarette]

whats the most fucked up you ever got in your life. drunk or high or both

omgggg. the most fucked up i’ve ever been was when i tried edibles for the first time. literally THE biggest mistake of my life. here’s the story: i was 18. i had just recently started smoking weed, literally about two weeks before this so i was very new to it all. i had been begging my stepmom to try edibles with me for a while and then one night my dad brought home a walmart bag full of weed. my stepmom made the weed butter WITHOUT measuring the weed, she literally just guessed (mistake #1). anyway we used the weed butter in this boxed peanut butter chocolate brownie mix (mistake #2) and baked it. finally we tried them. three hours later and it hadn’t hit either of us yet. so i thought “hey maybe she didn’t put enough weed in there. maybe i gotta eat more to actually get to the weed.” so i ate more. and i didn’t eat just one more....i ate two more (mistake #3). fourty minutes later and still nothing. so i ate one more (mistake #4). so thats four brownies in total. and then finally......finally it hit me. 

well, the first brownie did. and it was fun for a second. i was like “hey! it finally kicked in! im so excited!” and then....the second one hit me. this is where i started to get scared. i could feel the blood rushing through me very intensely and my heart beat started getting faster. i as kinda scared, but i was still alright. i was managing. 

and then....................everything slowly started falling apart. the third one hit me. i started getting very very scared at this point because i got very very very cold and i could feel the blood rushing through me even harder and my heart was beating faster. the paranoia started to set in. the fear started to set in. i tried to use my phone to call my dad to come back home and take care of me but i couldn’t remember my passcode so i stole my stepmom’s phone and somehow guessed her passcode and called my dad. she was actually asleep, the brownies had made her really sleepy. anyway i went to the living room and called my dad, mind you i as very very high and very scared so i really couldn’t talk normally. also, the tv happened to be up really loud because i thought the loud noise would comfort me. so i said to my dad “hey can you come home?” and he was like “no, not right now. whats wrong? wheres (stepmom?” and all i could answer him was that “she’s sleeping.” and THEN he heard the tv and thought somebody was at the house with us. “whos that in the background?” he asked. and i responded very very nervously “uh its the tv.” and then he was like “no it’s not” and the paranoia hit me REALLY fucking hard. i thought someone was really in the house with us so i hung up the phone with my dad (without saying goodbye or anything else) and went back to my sleeping stepmom.

i woke her up. i tried to remain calm because i didnt wanna look like a weirdo or anything so i gave her back her phone and told her that she needed to hurry up and call my dad back fast. she was very confused obviously but i told her i wanted to tell him that there was no one in the house and that i was just too high to explain it to him. and she did. she also saw that i was freaking out she told me that getting me a glass of water would help. i asked her to go get it for me but she wouldnt so i had to walk into the kitchen myself. all of a sudden (LITERALLY in the blink of an eye) i was standinh in front pf her with a glass of water. i fucking teleported from her room to the kitchen and then back to her room. the fourth brownie had hit me and that is when i absolutely LOST...MY....SHIT. i started screaming at her and begging her to help me but she was very high too and thought i was joking around. finally she figured out i wasnt and then told me that i needed to throw up the brownies. i made her follow me to drink more water/throw up the brownies. i chugged an INSANE amount of water, so much that my stomach was in pain. so now on top of being violently high i was having stomach trouble. i was also extremely cold, like i was shivering so hard i could barely stand. i tried to throw up the brownies but obviously it was too late for me. there was nothing i could do. i was stuck.

my stepmom called my dad again to tell him to come home and take care of me because she couldn’t do it. she was messed up too. anyway, as she called my dad i started hallucinating him there with us.....like i fully envisioned my dad in the room with us as she talked to him on the phone. i freak out even harder when i realize that im hallucinating. she ends up going to sleep back in her room while im standing at the kitchen sink chugging copious amounts of water. i dont know how long it lasted because you know how time feels when you’re high but i sat there hallucinating and then switching back to reality over and over and over and over again for what felt like hours. and each time it would happen i’d freak out more and more.

i woke up my stepmom again and begged her to help me. she told me to come get in the bed with her but i didnt wanna go to bed because i was convinced that her fluffy white bed was gonna swallow me whole and kill me. and if the bed didn;t kill me, the wall was gonna suck me into it. sooo i freaked out a little while longer and realized my only choice was to go to bed. that was the only way to make it all stop. so i layed down on her floor next to her bed, a place i thought was safe from her bed and wall, and eventually went to sleep. 

it was literally the most horrifying night of my life  i was messed up for like a month after that and im still kinda scared of weed to this day. it like actually traumatized me a little lol

[yeonjunwifeu]

One Last Hug

It was a week before Soobin have to leave to go back to Korea, and since he’s an idol us two won’t be able to contact as much since his schedules will be full. He used his break time to come and visit me, since today is the first day of his last week spending time with me, he decided to take me somewhere nice.

“Bun, where are we going?”

“ Somewhere nice, I wanna spend this week with nicer and and expensive things.”

“You don’t have to do that, beside you have to pack and get your things ready for Korea”

“It’s okay, I already packed everything I needed, I just want to spend my last week with my baby”

After a while, we reached our destination and it was a fancy restaurant. I got out of the car and I was surprised by how big the place was, no wonder why he told me to get ready.

“ Woah, Bun this is an expensive place why are we here? “

“We are having dinner here”

“What?! Soobin, this place is expensive why are you using your money for this?!”

“Y/n-shi, it’s okay, the company is paying not me and you will enjoy the food here as well, trust me.” He said and winked.

I just sighed and we entered The waiter gave us our table and it was a really nice place yet so expensive, even if the company is paying for it, it’s still a lot of money being wasted. After me and Soobin knew what we wanted we ordered our food.

“ So how’s the place so far babe?”

“It’s really nice, everything is so new looking. Yet so expensive “

“C’mon just enjoy it, I promise you the rest of the week won’t be so expensive”

“It better not be, if it is I’m sending you back to Korea myself”

Soobin just chuckled and the waiter then served us our food. The food here looks so expensive as well. We ate and talked about Soobin’s next tour with his members. I asked him if he missed his members since it’s been 2 weeks without his members, he said he does but does not miss them as much as he missed me. After our dinner he used the company card to pay for it and we left.

“Huh, I though we were going home…”

“ Oh well I wanted to give you one more surprise before we go home for the night.”

We then went somewhere else and it was a rooftop with fairy lights everywhere, it was beautiful. He then surprised me with a big bouquet of the flowers I liked, and with that also a cute stuffed animal. He then smiled at me and I smiled back.

“Why don’t you look around for a little bit” He said in a soft tone with a smile.

I then nodded and started looking around and seeing such a pretty set up I was wondering why he had spend so much money on me today. I then got scared, what if he was breaking up with me! What if he wanted to buy me things before he leaves me forever!? Thinking all of this, I heard him cleared his throat, I turned around and…he was on one knee, I gasp in shock.

“Are you tying your shoes?” I asked

I heard him chuckled

“ No, I am asking a very big question, a question that I know I will never regret. Y/n, we’ve been together for 3 years now, you have always been there for me, even through out my trainee days. You were always cheering me on, even knowing I was busy you respected my time and you appreciated every moment I spent with you. You alway cared for me and took care of me and the members. I can see your future, I can show you and tell you how much I love you by doing this, I want to spend the rest of my life with you Y/n.”

I was standing there tearing up, I didn’t know if my family approved if his company approved either but I know that him doing this already shows me how much he loves me.

“So Y/n, I am asking you this question, to secure our relationship and to give us a future.”

My eyes lit up when I saw him take out a ring box and opened it, the ring had a huge diamond on it, it looked worth a lot which made me a little worried. But I know that he saved up just to buy me this.

“Will you marry me?” Soobin asked with a smile and tears in his eyes as if he wanted me to say yes

I stood there for a little bit, then answered

“YES!YES YESSS!” I yelled with tears of joy

Soobin stood up and put the ring on my ring finger and hugged me tight, suddenly my family and the members popped out and started yelling

“SHE SAID YESSSS!!!”

Everyone was congratulating us, we were happy.

“So this is why you took me here. You wanted to propose to me so you can take me to Korea to live with you, huh?”

He chuckled, “ Yes love, I want to take you with me and show everyone that you’re mine.”

He said and then you both kissed.

THE END…

[beautifulnightmareunknown]

oh deer (lol this is cringy)

hiii. so my morning was actually really nice. i woke up, went to the gym with my sis, got back home, ate and made my meals for the day then went to go get ready for work. while i was showering grace (my sis) got my clothes and all my “getting ready” things together for me and she even made and brought me my coffee. omfg and she made my bed for me lol. ive loved having her home from college. she really is my best friend. i feel like i can literally talk to her about anything and everything and there is no judgment or negative thoughts/feelings. i go to her for just about anything and she is always there. ANYWAYS, i left home and was bee bopping on my way to work listening to some music and just doing my thang. well i was almost to work and i freaking deer jumps out in front of me. i was only going about 35mph so the damage isnt that bad, but my hood is a little bent up and my grill is a little busted. other than that though my car is fine. i did however get in touch with my insurance guy and hes referring me to this place to get it fixed without filing a claim if i dont have to. hopefully its not too much money, but either way i just want my car fixed. i wouldnt mind driving around a cute little rental car either. 

im currently at work right now, its nap time. i really cannot wait to start my new job. this place is just forever getting on my nerves. i love tammy to death (my co-teacher) but damn she is lazy. like when the kids need something shes always like trying to sneak tell them to ask me so that i will do it. and dont even get me started on the admin here. theyre just as bad if not worse. i was supposed to get finger printed like 2 or 3 weeks ago but i was sick on the day i was scheduled so i missed it and they just keep getting on my ass about rescheduling it like its my job to do so. which its not by the way. but little do they know its my last week here so it doesnt even matter. they just all get on my nerves here. its like no one wants to do their job and i mean thats why half the workers are leaving and why the whole class comes to me instead of the lead lol. i am going to miss the kids somewhat but not enough for me to stay and the pay here sucks. but yeah im going to work this week out and then text melanie (the director) that i quit. i dont care how unprofessional that is only because when they hired me here they made me not put in a 2 weeks notice to my previous job like i didnt have a choice and you know what they say.. “do unto others like you would want done to you” or something like that. then ill just have a week to chill and get into my new routine because quite literally fuck this place and lowkey fuck my schedule right now too. 

ive been really good this year about keeping a positive mindset and not letting certain things get to me. i plan to keep it that way for the whole year and only work on bettering myself. i have weeded out most toxic aspects of my life and have gained more positive and encouraging in replace. i believe this year is only going to get better and more successful. one of my personal goals for this year is to read as many books as my height. thats crazy sounding i know but i am already off to a decent start with one book lol. 

nap time is almost over so i am going to go ahead and sign off now. byeeee

[creek-cryptid-deluxe]

Y'all... there is more evidence that L is indeed my soul mate, my person, the only one who truly gets me. Let's see what has transpired.

Piece of Evidence #1: I was complaining about my hip messing up & making me 'useless'. He responded with, "Baby you are so efficient & so good at so many things, the gods had to nerf you for being OP somehow." in the most sincere tone.

Piece of Evidence #2: We were hanging out on the deck & I got up, saying I was off to do dishes (while limping because I tore something picking up Zel when she was hurt). He said, "Ok... WAIT! NO! I'll do them! Sit!" I reminded him that he'd said he'd do them for the past 3 days & hadn't. He said, "[Dr M] I command you to not do dishes!" I laughed & told him he was under leveled for the "Command [Dr M] spell" outside of specific circumstances in which my constitution is considerably lower. He got mildly offended & began going off about how his current Skyrim character can summon a ghost that's way above her level and that a 'debuff character build is valid'. I reminded him that this isn't Skyrim & he isn't a wood elf. A bit later I told him that if he ate in the next 15 mins, I'd relent (because he forgets to eat). Within 2 minutes he was in the kitchen making food while glaring at me & mumbling about blackmail.

Piece of Evidence #3: he knows I like to watch old episodes of Big Fat Quiz when I don't feel well & actually suggested we turn it on one night when I was clearly struggling but was doing an alright job faking it. For the last 4 nights in a row, that's all we've watched because he loves it... especially if Richard & Noel or Noel & Russell are a team.

Piece of Evidence #4: he walked in to me playing bass on my leg while painting cabinets & immediately asked if I was listening to Primus on loop again. He's also figured out how to gauge my pain/mood based on what I'm listening to (because some days I have to get real angry to make my body function, so I listen to shit like Slipknot/Tool/Nine Inch Nails/Manson/Kidney Theives).

Piece of Evidence #5: yesterday i went outside to talk to him & paused the music on my headphones as I sat down. He said, "Aw no more MSI? They do go hard." Apparently he could tell it was them just based on what he heard at a distance through my headphones. Genuinely never been with anyone who knows of them, much less likes or can ID them like that. (Before you come for me, yes I know Jimmy is a POS [anyone with half a brain could easily draw that conclusion] . I like the sound of their stuff and have never paid for any of it. It is called separating the art from the artist. You'd be horrified by my back tattoo. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Grow up.)

So yeah... dude is absolutely the one for me. (This is all on top of how extremely understanding he is when my bod/hormones malfunction & all the things I've always adored about him throughout our friendship.)

He actually asked me the other day when I developed feels for him. I told him that I'd always really liked him but like... he had some deal breaker stuff & was with my (then) friend. But that in early August (before I moved in but was staying over to hang out for a couple days), there was a massive storm that broke a massive part of a tree off in the yard of the house across the creek out back. It was hanging on the electrical wires & without hesitation he ran over to help the homeowners. I sat and watched from the driveway as he helped them cut it down. (Note: til then he hadn't ever interacted with them.) Then as he was walking back across the creek afterwards, the elderly woman who lived there with her husband called across to me "You've got a good man!" & L turned and said "Aw she's my best friend, it's not like that." I found myself feeling really... sad? Then internally I went "Oh fuckstockings. I'm in love with him. Goddamn it. This... might be a fucking problem." Then a couple weeks later it wasn't a problem because I basically lived here. And nearly 5 months later we are still great. No fights because we both speak very frankly and clearly when stuff is going on. There's some communication stuff because he's been programmed to read into things, but we talk about it.

Shit is dope.

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 8

Now we’re getting to the reason behind the title.

On the tagging, I HAVE REACHED MY HARD AND FAST LIMIT OF 50. I love the response this story has gotten. I do. I love you all. I love every reply, like, and reblog. It brings me so much joy, you don’t even know. But tagging is hard for my ADHD brain. I have gone up from 20 to 30 and finally 50 as my system improved but I think if I do any more than that I’ll go insane. So any future tagging requests will be ignored. Sorry.

The best way to keep update on these stories is follow me and set me on notifications. I rarely do a lot of reblogging these days (too busy churning out stories like whoa), so more often then not a post will be a story. I try to post at least once a day (some times twice if I’m trying to rush through the posting a bit like I did to make sure the Valentine fic got out in time without making people wait on Vamp!Eddie), just never at set time.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

*

When Eddie heard how Gethin had done it, he was starting wonder who the smart twin was, because it was brilliant.

The chemicals for developing film were kept in Miss Chen’s room and he took some quick pictures of Steve’s piece before promptly spilling some of the chemicals that the teacher had in her class room all over it.

It ATE the paper. Gethin had tried to mop it up before it got too bad. But alas, it was too late.

“Mr Hughes!” Miss Chen protested. “Please be more careful next time!”

Gethin apologize profusely. He begged her to give the poor student whose piece he had just destroyed an extra week to finish the project, because he had been soooo careless.

She agreed.

He ran out of her class with the chemicals he needed to develop the film in his camera.

Pictures he slipped into Eddie’s locker during lunch.

*

After school Eddie waited until the halls were empty before he opened his locker. He knelt down to pick them up and blinked. Steve was really good. The composition was sound and colors were great.

The page wasn’t even that scary. It was just of this boy walking up to a house in the dead of night. In one of the panels you could almost make out something watching the boy, but it was the vague sense of unease made it so you could tell it was going be a horror comic. It was good. And suddenly Eddie was pissed at Miss Chen for calling Steve out for this.

Especially since Eddie’s own comic was about slaying a dragon.

He shoved the pictures back into his backpack and slammed the locker shut.

“Well what have we got here?” a voice said from behind him.

Shit.

Eddie turned around slowly. There was Tommy H, Billy, and Kyle, standing there with their arms crossed.

“Hey, boys,” he said with a grin. “You looking to buy? I’ve got about four kilos.”

Tommy and Kyle looked at each other, nervously. They didn’t want to antagonize their drug dealer.

Billy ran his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully. “I just wanted to talk. I’ve been seeing Harrington hanging around you freaks lately and wanted to know why?”

Eddie folded his arms. “I get you’re new here, Hargrove, but your friends should have told you: I’m the king of picking up lost sheep. I like bringing people into my fold that the rest of this school has deemed outcasts. Steve Harrington has become one of those. And how could I resist such a tempting treat as the former king of Hawkins High?”

“You leave him the fuck alone, you hear me?” Billy growled.

“Or what?” Eddie asked. “You’ll do me like you did him? And then where will you get your weed? Because if you do I will make sure that I don’t sell to you or any of your little friends.” He wagged his finger as he indicated to Tommy and Kyle. “I’ll fucking cut off the entire basketball team. Don’t think I won’t. How long do you think you’ll be king then, Hargrove? When suddenly everyone’s supply dries up because you fucked with me?”

Kyle tugged on Billy’s arm. “Come on, man. Whatever your beef with Harrington is, it’s not worth this.”

Tommy just stood there looking Eddie in the eye.

“So what’s it going to be, Hagen?” Eddie asked. “You going to side with King Jackass here and alienate the whole fucking basketball team because you’ve got a hard on for Harrington? Or are you going to the smart thing and walk away?”

Tommy grabbed Billy’s other arm. “Let’s go.”

Billy wrenched his arms from both of them and stalked off.

“Run along, Tommy,” Eddie said making a shooing motion with his hands. “Go suck Hargrove’s dick.”

Tommy made to swing at Eddie, but Kyle stopped him. “Don’t do it, dude. He’s trying to get a rise out of you.”

Eddie grinned. He blew a kiss at Tommy and then walked off, a nervous energy humming in his veins.

He walked out to his van and found Steve waiting for him. Eddie smirked.

“You waiting for me, big boy?” he asked walking up to the other boy.

“I wanted to thank you for what you did about my art project,” Steve explained. “And then I saw Billy and Tommy and I got worried.”

Eddie patted his cheek. “You’re sweet, but I told you, I’m immune.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Plus, pretty boy,” Eddie said. “You won’t have to worry about that lot anymore. They came after me and I set them straight. If they want to keep buying weed, either they’ve got find someone new or leave you the hell alone.”

Steve sighed in relief. “So everything’s cool?”

“Cool as can be,” Eddie agreed. He opened the door and hopped into the van. “And I didn’t do anything to your project, Stevie.”

He saluted Steve and drove off, leaving behind a very confused, but very happy Steve Harrington.

*

Steve kept his eye on Tommy and Billy but by the end of the week there was no doubt that whatever Eddie had said them, made them back off.

“Hey, Steve,” Gareth said, nonchalant. “Did you know that there chemicals used in the art department for all sorts art related shit that can dissolve paper?”

Steve cocked an eyebrow at him. “You don’t say.”  

“Didn’t you now,” Brian said with a grin, “Gareth’s brother is a big photography nerd.”

“Oh, he must know Jonathan Byers, then,” Steve said, deliberately not taking their bait.

Gareth cocked his head to the side and hummed. “Maybe not. Different grades. But still could do, I suppose.”

Steve grinned. “Miss Chen did say it was a photography student that ruined my comic, maybe I should go thank Jonathan.” He winked at them and they burst out laughing.

Which was actually what Steve thought had happened when Eddie denied all knowledge of what happened. That Jonathan had recognized the scene of Steve on his way to Jonathan’s house and messed it up, worried Steve might get in trouble with the government.

But Gethin doing it made Steve sigh in relief. He already owe his life to Jonathan, owing him for the art project, too? That was too much for even Steve’s wounded pride.

Steve had already fobbed Nancy off earlier in the week because Jonathan had snitched.

She was practically screaming about being so careless. As if Steve would make the characters look like them. He had asked her if she had seen it herself and when she admitted she hadn’t, Steve told her to back off. Which lo and behold, she actually did.

“It’s bullshit Miss Chen even said anything,” Eddie growled. “It’s of this boy walking up to a house at night. It could’ve been of a boy going to pick up a girl on a date, but because Steve used muted tones and creepy vibes, she decided it was sad or some shit and threatened to call Steve’s parents.”

The other three boys looked at each other. “That is bullshit,” they all agreed.

Steve shrugged. “I changed to be about a lost little girl who connects with a social recluse and they become a family. If she gives me shit about that one, I’ll kindly let Chief Hopper know that Miss Chen thinks him and his adopted daughter’s story is toooo depressing for school.”

“I like the way you think,” Jeff said with a cackle.

Steve grinned. Silence descended as the boys ate their lunch. As they were packing up, he casually dropped a bomb on them.

“Miss Lucy wants me to try out for the school musical...”

“No way, dude!” Eddie said. Miss Lucy was the drama teacher. Her last name was one of those that looked easy on paper but really wasn’t. So she had all her students call her by her first name.

“I thought you were new to the whole drama thing,” Brian said.

“I am but she seems to think I’m good enough to tryout,” Steve said with a shrug.

“Are you going to do it?” Eddie asked in all seriousness.

Steve bit his lip. “I want to but I don’t want people to get mad at me if I do a get a part.”

Gareth’s brow furrowed. “Why would they be mad at you?”

Steve shrugged again. “That a newbie like me is taking away a roll from one of the more seasoned kids?”

“If that’s the case,” Jeff said, “then fuck them. You didn’t know you had a talent for it.”

Steve smiled warmly at them. “Thanks, guys.”

Eddie clapped him on the back. “You go get ‘em, tiger!”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, okay.”

He felt the warmth from where Eddie touched his back all day long. And he carried that feeling all the way through his audition.

*

“You are such chicken shit,” Eddie told Steve. The results were back for call backs and he was too afraid to look.

“I know, I know,” Steve murmured. “But I would rather walk through an entire pack of demodogs then look at that stupid piece of paper.”

“What the fuck is a demodog?”

Steve blinked. “Something the kids made up for their D&D campaign.” Which was true. Mostly.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie said, licking his lips. “You owe big time for this.”

“I’ll buy you dinner,” Steve promised.

“And it better be somewhere nice!” Eddie called back over his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve grumbled.

Within seconds Eddie came flouncing back. “Bad news, Stevie...”

“I didn’t get called back?” Steve asked.

Eddie cackled. “You got called back for Charles Thomson. You’re going up against Kyle Carver.”

“Fuck.”

“Language, Mr Harrington,” Mr Hall, one of the swim coaches murmured as he walked by.

“Sorry, coach,” Steve said automatically. He turned back to Eddie. “He’s going to get it, isn’t he?”

“Kyle?” Eddie asked. Steve nodded. “Probably. Though it would be a serious miscarriage of justice if he does.”

Steve grinned. “Good thing you’re a fan of those. Maybe you start a letter campaign against bias casting in school plays.”

Eddie looked around to make sure there weren’t any teachers. “Fuck off, Harrington.”

Steve kissed his nose and ran off giggling. “See you later, Munson.”

Eddie stood in the hall being jostled by other students as he thoughtfully rubbed his nose.

*

Steve watched Kyle audition from the audience and was so sure Kyle had it in the bag. Until he opened his mouth to sing and what came out of his mouth was horribly off key.

“Mr Carver, are you all right?” Miss Lucy asked.

Kyle nodded and tried again. This time it was better, but no where near it was when he auditioned the first time.

“I must be coming down with a cold,” Kyle excused.

Miss Lucy frowned. “Your turn, Mr Harrington.”

Steve took a deep breath and let it out slow, like Eddie had taught him. He stepped up to the stage and turned around.

“You know, sometimes I think the general is speaking to me,” Steve recited his lines, his voice breaking on the last word. And then he used the scene to launch into the singing part of his audition.

Miss Lucy was humming and nodding as Steve finished up the song.

“Thank you, Mr Harrington,” Miss Lucy said. “Results will be posted on the drama room door tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Miss Lucy,” Steve said.

As he passed Kyle the boy hissed, “Suck up.”

Steve just shrugged. “Or maybe it’s just polite to thank someone for their time.” 

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21

Tag list: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites @garden-of-gay @anaibis @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead  @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @jinxjinn @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @dangdirtydemons @lovelyscot  @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread

[youmightaswell]

Die!

The Bagel Dilemma Update

I wondered if I was the only person who found going into the bagel shop I wrote about in my last entry, stressful.

STAYED TUNED FOR MY OWN REVIEW

There are many positive reviews (the bagels are good!) but here you go:

Carly Cherone 1 review·1 photo 11 months ago I used to get bagels from here all the time. I stopped going into the store because the workers were rude and it gave me anxiety. But I still ordered their bagels sometimes because they taste good. Today, I found a latex glove (a whole finger) inside of the cream cheese spread. I literally almost ate it. How could they not notice this? Was it done on purpose? Grubhub gave me a refund and I called the restaurant to let them know what happened, and they hung up on me. Don’t get food from here.

K 1 review 4 months ago I am finally writing a review because I have had enough of feeling frustrated when I leave the store. I have been coming here for many years because they have the best bagels in New York. I look forward to inviting people over for brunch and ordering a couple dozen bagels from them on the weekend. Unfortunately the service is terrible, they are rude, and they charge you for every little thing, including slicing your bagel in half.

I noticed that when you ask for something that they are out of, like an everything flat bagel, they give you a substitution without telling you, like a whole wheat everything flat bagel. You only realize after you pay and are about to eat. They also make your food the way they think it should be made. Today I ordered a bagel toasted with butter. The employee told me that he didn’t toast it because it was “hot enough,” and refused to remake it, but at least he knows for next time. At around $3.20 for a toasted bagel with butter, my bagel should actually be toasted. The manager is always unavailable when I ask to speak to them.

kyle witz 12 reviews·23 photos a year ago I’ve gone here my entire life. You can see that I reviewed positively with 5 stars under the same name about five years ago. This place has fallen apart, even as they’ve renovated and cleaned up. And the reason is for the service. The bagels taste just as good as they always have. But the place has had it’s good vibe destroyed by the extremely rude behavior of it’s employees, but especially by one man who I believe even his own coworkers dislike. And he is the taller guy who works the register. He is always humiliating and disparaging his co-workers, talking back and behaving rudely towards customers, and creates problems and confusion with everyone. Then on the other hand they will mess up your order because their system for taking orders is highly flawed and then try to make you feel bad for asking them to make what you asked for. Three stars because the bagels and coffee are good, the place is clean with a bathroom.

Charlie Panoff 10 reviews·1 photo 4 months ago The bagels are so good that I have given them chances time and time again. The staff, however, is unable to get any order right. The lady at the register just makes up prices on the fly. I once ordered a toasted everything bagel with cream cheese and the guy says “plain bagel with veggie cream cheese?” I then repeated my order and ended up with a sesame bagel with butter. I was the only one in the store at the time. I also ordered the same thing four days in one week and paid $15.80, $14.50, $17.25 & $15.67. Huh? I ORDERED THE SAME THING. Go to another location for your own sanity.

Hannahkatherin3 2 reviews 3 months ago Truly some of the worst, most unkind and uncaring staff I’ve ever encountered. They sometimes will outright refuse to make something on the menu for no reason other than literal laziness. The bagels are fine but 9/10 times I’ve gotten it toasted it came burnt. They are also very expensive for no reason. The only nice staff I’ve ever seen here is a young man and he’s not usually there, it’s typically these grouchy old men who seem to make their own rules

Samantha Nowak 3 reviews·1 photo 2 months ago Wow, just incredibly poor service, snarky guy taking our order gaslighted us into thinking we had messed up our own order twice. The ill-mannered tall man was not even wearing a mask like the rest of his team and seemed to think he was above the situation at hand. Then when we asked to change it, he haphazardly gave me a cold bagel still with the wrong cream cheese. My order is an everything bagel toasted with cream cheese, not that hard. For $6 to get a cold and incorrect order is just a waste of my time and money. Does it help to say that the bagels are mediocre at best? Needless to say, we will never be coming back here!

K S 5 reviews a week agoNEW Unbelievably rude. I walked in behind a family and the gentlemen helped them I stood there at the same spot the family ordered from for 10 min. The guy then yelled at me to get in line. He wouldn’t take my order where the family ordered bc I was not in the right line. They are unbelievably overpriced but delicious however nasty and angry. No thanks I will go elsewhere .Note to management step it up with the employees. They don’t care about the customers. This is the second time something like this has happened. You are not the only bagels in town.

Patrick L Local Guide·87 reviews·72 photos a year ago The bagels and coffee were very decent. The staff, however, was weird. Seemed to be annoyed that everyone was ordering food and drinks. Overall not a bad experience and the food was good.

Sharon Kenney 13 reviews·12 photos a year ago The staff are so rude and seem like they are always in a bad mood. Very disorganized. They do not have a good system of ordering and waiting. The bagels aren’t bad, but you can find much better at other bagel shops close by. The terrible service makes it completely not worth it.

[gumballavocadoharry]

Perfect life:

*Yn is Alice and Harry is Jack of course but I'll just say yn. There is smoking in here along with pregnancy but of course you all know that smoking is bad regardless but ESPECIALLY during pregnancy. But this was the 50s so people didn't know that.*

Yn had been having abdominal pains lately. Not bad ones, but enough to make her concerned. Jack was at work when yn started to feel nauseous. But she still went on for trying to be the perfect housewife and cleaned up the house starting with mopping the floor.

But that didn't last as she soon found herself running to the bathroom to throw up. Yn had been feeling this way for a couple weeks. No period, nauseous, tired, hungry and moody. She hadn't had a period in over 2 months so she just assumed her hormones were acting funny and that it would be back on track by the next month.

She didn't wanna tell Jack as she felt it would put more stress on him with his job and all. She barely finished her chores without throwing up again before she sat on the couch and relaxed a little. She rested before a knock at the door out any plans of relaxation on hold. She answered the door to her friend, Mary who had a bright smile on her face reflecting the sunny glows of the sun. "Hey yn, I just wanted to know if you wanted to have a smoke break?" Yn thought for a second before she accepted.

"So what's new with you?" Mary asked lighting both her's and yn's cigarettes. "Not much just typical housework....but there is something that's been on my mind." Mary turned to yn in curiosity pondering over her anticipation of yn's upcoming words.

"I hadn't a period in almost 3 months and I just feel so tired and I have all the symptoms of a period but no period." She said. Mary nodded before taking a puff of her cigarette. "Could it be possible that you're expecting?" Yn looked over at Mary slowly before looking down. "Maybe. But how can I be sure?" Mary shrugged. "They have frog testing but that's crazy expensive. I think you'll just have to wait and see for now. But keep me posted." She nodded before taking in another puff of her cigarette.

"I gotta go, those dishes aren't gonna wash themselves." Mary said before putting her cigarette out and waving goodbye from her house two doors down. Yn went back inside before putting her cigarette out and sitting back down on the couch. Yn played down to sleep but she just couldn't. "Expecting? A baby?" She pondered over and over again in her head. She always wanted a family and Jack was very family oriented. But still she wondered how he would take it if it was true.

Like Mary said it was expensive to get pregnancy testing done but she still wanted to go to the doctors just in case. To take her mind off things, she painted her nails and let them dry while watching some TV. Later that night, Jack came home with dinner waiting for him on the table. "Hey baby." He said pecking a quick kiss on yn's cheek. "Hey Jack, how was work?" She asked while ironing some clothes that she was finishing.

"Oh it was pretty good, no setbacks, no budget cuts so I think we're really moving ahead." He took a seat at the table with yn joining him. The pair ate the lovely dinner yn had made and then Jack went outside for a smoke break. Yn trying to decide whether to tell Jack what was going on or to wait. She ultimately decided the second choice. She got started on the dishes right and after a couple minutes, Jack came back inside.

"I'm gonna do some work in the den baby. Dinner was delicious." Jack placed a kiss on her neck before heading into his den. Yn finished up the dishes before she went to her and Jack's bedroom. She sat on the bed thinking of her next move involving finding out if she was pregnant or not. Yn decided to go to the doctors first thing tomorrow morning after Jack went to work. Yn's thoughts were interrupted when her husband entered their bedroom. He stripped off his tie and shirt and just leaving his boxers on for the night.

"Goodnight yn." He said kissing her lips. "Night." Yn had a hard time getting to sleep that night. The next morning she woke up and prepared breakfast. Jack came around tying his tie getting ready for work. "Smells good!" He said taking a seat. "It's an omelette." Yn laughed shifting glances between her husband and the stove. She served them both breakfast and yn asked Jack about his work.

He was busy working on this project with his coworkers and he seemed really excited about it too. Yn kissed her husband goodbye for work and almost immediately yn went to the phone and scheduled an appointment for the doctor's. She took a bus down there and sat in the waiting room filling out forms to be seen. "Yn Chambers?" A nurse called. Yn got up and followed the nurse to the exam room.

"The doctor will be with you shortly." The nurse said after taking yn's blood pressure, height and weight. She left the room when yn waited in the exam room with nothing but a paper gown on. A knock at the door startled her. "Yn?" Yn accepted the invite and the doctor came in through the door. It was a female doctor who had short curly blonde hair and greyish eyes. She was very friendly.

"What seems to be the trouble?" She asked. "Well... I've been having symptoms of a period but no period like bloating, sickness in the morning time only, hungry more than usual and tired with abdominal pains too but not severe pain." The doctor nodded listening to yn's complaints. She wrote something down on the clipboard she brought in with her and then she turned to nurse who was in the room assisting.

"Okay Mrs Chambers, I would like to test you for pregnancy if that's okay, your symptoms seem to be adding up to the common signs of pregnancy. We can do toad testing which is where we inject your urine into a frog and if the frog goes into heat then it's confirmed that you're pregnant. But I have to warn you it is costly."

Yn nodded. "How much?" "50 dollars." Yn thought about it. "Are there any other options?"

"You could come back in a couple months when you are in the advanced stages of pregnancy. By then we'll be able to tell. But if you want fast results, then the frog is the only way."

Yn told the doctor she'd think about it and come back when she and her husband made a decision. The doctor understood. She still did a checkup on yn and then she sent her on her way.

Yn took the bus back knowing that she would have to tell Jack sooner or later. She went home but decided she needed company and went over to Mary's house. "Hey yn what's going on with you?" Yn smiled. "Well I went to the doctors today and the doctor said that if I was to confirm my suspected pregnancy, then I would have to get toad testing which is super expensive or wait a couple months until I would be in the advanced pregnancy stages."

Mary nodded taking it all in. "Did you tell Jack yet?" Yn shook her head. "I'm thinking about it in case we decide he wants immediate results. But if I'm not pregnant and we spent all that money for nothing, well then that's another issue." Mary rubbed yn's back. "If you were pregnant, would you be happy?" Yn turned to her friend. "What do you mean?"

"Like....is a baby something you and Jack really want and if I'm getting too personal then just tell me to butt out okay?" Mary backed up. "No it's fine. But to answer your question.....yes. I do really want a baby. And Jack's talked about starting a family." Mary smiled. "I just want you both to be happy."

Yn appreciated the gesture. "Thanks. I wish you and Frank the best as well." Yn hugged Mary before leaving to her house. Later when Jack got back home, yn knew she had to speak to him. "Jack there's some.......we need to talk." Jack looked confused but still proceeded to sit on the couch to lend a listening ear.

"Jack.....I think I'm pregnant."

*******************************************************************

"Come on yn you can do it! One more push!" The doctor said as yn was breathing hard and pushing with all her strength. Soon a cry could be heard throughout the room. "It's a healthy baby boy!" Yn smiled as tears of joy flew freely down her cheeks. The cleaned up her son before handing him to her and sending her husband in. "Oh my goodness! Yn is that?"

"Our son? Yep." She said fondling with her baby's fingers. Jack rubbed his forehead staring in awe at the beautiful baby that he was proud to call his own. "Do we have a name?" The nurse asked. Yn looked at Jack who spoke. "Roger Jack Chambers." The nurse smiled and wrote it down. Yn and Jack looked at each other with hopeful smiles and tired eyes.

They kissed each other passionately. It was hard to imagine that just a couple months ago, yn was hesitant to tell Jack about her pregnancy. But there was no doubt in this moment as the couple was more than happy to have a child.

For @heiditomlinson23 thanks for being patient!!!!!!

[thebatfamfanatic]

Six Times He Met Her

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, guy taking advantage of a minor in first chap, mention of underage smut in fourth chap, making out?, violence, mentions of blood/injury, main character death, adult language, angst

A/N: First thing I’ve written on Tumblr!! Tell me if anybody likes it, or if I broke your heart. And yes, I know I’m evil.

1-

The first time he saw you was around 2:30 in the morning. Jason was squatting on the edge of a rooftop in Gotham, surveying the dark scenery below him.

Somehow, there was still plenty of traffic on the dirty streets, plenty of cars honking and driving around. Jason always wondered who the fuck needed to be somewhere at 2 am.

He fiddled with a loose seam on the Robin uniform he sported each night, hunting down the assholes of Gotham (pretty much 70% of the city) and putting them in jail, where they belonged.

At 16, Jason Todd technically should have been in bed, maintaining a healthy sleep schedule and doing some rich kid shit during the day. Of course, his adoptive (long story) father, Bruce Wayne, richest playboy in Gotham, employed him to be his little tweety bird sidekick at night, so here he was, at the rendezvous watching the streets. yay. A scream came from an alley nearby. Jason stood, stretched his legs, and leaped down from the roof onto the ground. He pinpointed the alleyway where the noise was coming from and raced into it. A girl, about his age, had been cornered by some bitch dude who thought he could take advantage of this girl. Not on Robin’s watch.

Before the girl could scream again, the guy was on the ground and Jason was helping her up. She shakily took the hand he offered her and looked him in the eye. Shit, she had gorgeous eyes. Jason froze for a second, lost in her beauty, before clearing in his throat.

“Hi. I’m Robin, uh, you probably knew that. Are you okay, ma’am?”

He hated the squeak that came out of his mouth. He sounded like a fucking 5 year old. The girl raised her eyebrow. She had recovered rather quickly. “You don’t have to call me ma’am. I’m not some rich-ass royal whatever from Britain.” Jason liked this one. Sassy, but just so. He inquired where she lived, and she gave him the address. With his grappling hook at the ready, Jason pulled her closer to him. She jumped at the sudden closeness, but seemed to enjoy it. Maybe? He didn’t know shit about girls.

Jason shot the hook, propelling them up in the air, and landed on a rooftop. They continued this routine until he got in front of her house. It was still several seconds before he released her waist.

She started to walk towards her door, before stopping.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Sorry, what?” Jason blinked.

“I thought you were smart, Robin. Its my name, dumb ass.”

Then Y/N disappeared into her house. Jason stood there foolishly outside on her front lawn for a while, thinking about the girl he had just met. She was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he realized 10 minutes later that he had forgotten to ask about where her family was and everything.

Oh well. Bruce would be expecting him anyways. Jason shot his grappling hook and started home, still dazed from the encounter.

2-

The second time you guys met was two weeks later. Jason was just Jason Todd, a normal 10th grader living in the shadow of his (adopted) older brother Dick Grayson. Nobody paid much attention to him, and he didn’t really mind. Mostly Jason focused on getting A’s in class and then retreating into the library until Golden Boy’s after school clubs were over.

That is, until you walked in. It sounded as if you had just moved here, and for a minute, Jason felt a little sorry for you. I mean, Gotham wasn’t the greatest place to spend high school, or any grade, in his opinion.

You looked at your schedule from across the hall and then up at the locker next to him. For a second, your eyes met his and Jason was content. Lost in those brilliant colors. And then you looked away and started walking towards him. He realized just in time maybe he should stop leaning over your locker as you stopped next to him.

“Hi. Y/N. Just moved here. Looks like we’re locker neighbors.”

Jason was about to reply with “I know” but restrained himself. “Jason. Nice to meet you. Congrats on moving to this shitshow.”

He managed to not grin like an idiot as you laughed. The sound was music to his ears, like beautiful bells. God, he was being sappy.

“It’s not much of a shitshow when you’re here.” Ooh, she flirts too. Jason smirked as you opened your locker and dumped your stuff inside, pulling out the things you needed for your first class.

The first bell shrieked just as you closed your locker. “See you around, Jason.”

The small smile you gave him made his day, and he almost forgot to get to class. Yes, you were certainly one of a kind, and yes, Jason wanted you. The question was how to get to that point.

3-

You guys had a couple classes together, and frequently sat at the same table during lunch, so it wasn’t long before you were quick friends with Jason. However, the next notable time you met was a little while after he got your number.

Jason was laying on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through Tumblr as he thought about ways to ask you out.

Y/N, would you grant me the honor of going out with me? No, too Romeo and Juliet.

Hey, want to grab ice cream? He had to make it clear what his intentions were. Then it wouldn’t be weird if he kissed you, right?

Oh, god, if he fucking kissed you….what would that be like? Before Jason could start fantasizing, his fingers were flying across the keyboard and he had sent a text to you. What did he do, what did he-

Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to see that new movie this weekend. It seems like something you would enjoy.

Hm. That was actually pretty good. Where did he come up with that?

Jason had just started inspecting his fingers for some kind of sign of being possessed by smooth-with-girls-syndrome when you responded. He looked up and read it quickly.

Sure, I’d love that! Thanks for thinking of me ❤️

A heart. You had put a heart at the end of it. Did that mean you knew it was a date?

Jason sighed. He certainly hoped so.

4-

The weekend date went good. By the end of it, Jason was sure you knew it was a date. The second one passed, and then the third. The third one was when you hesitantly pecked him on the cheek. The fourth was when he kissed you actually. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was just enough for him to take you on a fourth date. An actual “will you go out with me on a date” kind of thing.

He took you to a restaurant in the fancy part of things. You two ate food that two broke 16 year olds technically shouldn’t have been able to afford, but Bruce helped Jason out.

Jason drove you home afterwards and discussed the topic of the upcoming summer during the car ride. What you were doing, where he was going. The entire time, Jason had butterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t sure how to act. Was he messing it all up, or were you actually into him?

Once he parked in front of your house and walked you up to the stoop, you looked at him. He noticed you were biting your lip nervously, and god, why did he think that was so hot? “My parents aren’t home.” It was the softest Jason had ever heard you speak, but he knew what you meant. He smiled gently, and kissed you again. This one was destined to last longer, and before either of you realized it, you had opened your door and you were leading him to your bedroom.

That night was one neither of you would forget, and by the end of it, Jason had officially asked out successfully.

5-

You and Jason spent a lot of time together after that. You met his older brother, Dick (who was very happy for Jason, too happy in his opinion) and his dad, Bruce Wayne. Bruce was cool, but very busy all the time.

By two months, Jason still hadn’t told you his identity as Robin, and he was running out of excuses. One day, you confronted him, assuming he was cheating on you. He tried everything, but he had to go out on patrol.

Jason left that night assuming you were broken up. The entire patrol, he wasn’t himself. Truth was, he loved you so much he was afraid of losing you. That had become his greatest fear. It was that night everything went wrong.

6-

You were out taking a late night walk. Down by the pier, a cold wind was blowing, and as you walked past warehouse after warehouse, you pulled your coat tighter.

You were affected as well, and confused about where you and your boyfriend stood. Did you guys just breakup? Did he love you? Did–

A scream echoed from one of the warehouses. You turned, afraid of stepping closer but afraid of leaving the person. Eventually, your curiosity won over and you climbed up several crates to peer into the window.

What you saw inside almost made you scream yourself. Robin, the hero everybody talked about, lay defenseless and bloody on the ground as a tall man-the Joker- whacked him over and over again with a crowbar.

You gasped, wanting to help, but you knew that would be foolish. You would just get in the way for a minute. Tears started to form in your eyes as Robin weakly cried out from the pain. He looked so…helpless.

Joker relentlessly beat him with the crowbar, and Robin’s mask began to come off. You rubbed the tears from your eyes just as the mask fell to the ground.

“No.” was the only thing that you could muster. Jason lay on the ground in the bloody Robin suit. Jason fucking Todd. There was your boyfriend, being beaten to death by the asshole of all assholes. That was why he kept disappearing at night, because he fucking protected the city!

You were mad at yourself for being so cruel to Jason without knowing what was really going on. You barely paid attention as Batman and Nightwing suddenly burst through the windows.

Joker laughed, and said something you couldn’t hear from the outside. Probably taunting Batman as he watched his apprentice get beat to death.

A fight broke out, Batman lunging at Joker as Nightwing rushed to Jason, laying broken on the ground. You had just enough time to duck as a Batarang came swooping out of the hands of the Caped Crusader and straight through the window you were looking through.

It was then you realized how close Jason was to death, and what you needed to do. The window pricked your jacket as you jumped through it, but you didn’t care. Gymnastics back in 6th grade helped when you landed awkwardly. Nightwing spun around, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that was Dick, which meant Bruce was Batman.

However, none of that mattered when Jason was half dead in front of you. Nightwing- Dick- made no effort to stop you as you knelt in front of Jason. “No, no, no.” You cradled his head in your hands, trying hard not to recognize how limp his body was, and how his chest barely moved as he struggled to breathe.

Jason’s eyes were closed, tears running down his face silently. You were crying as well, mumbling curses and things that made no sense.

“Please, don’t be dead. Please, I-I love you.”

You watched Jason make no acknowledgement he could hear you, watched him breathe once more. His chest rose and never fell.

You screamed and buried your head in his costume, not caring about getting blood on your face. Dick pulled you away wordlessly, out of the warehouse. You barely registered that the warehouse exploded behind you a few seconds later.

Dick let you sob into his shoulder for what seemed like hours. Him and Bruce exchanged a short conversation, both riddled with grief.

Six times you and Jason had met, and that was the last.